Something of a Tragedy
by StarryNinja
Summary: In the end of a war, there are only survivors and victims, the alive and the dead. There are no more soldiers, scientists, and leaders, only the broken and the damned. -Drew/May, Harley/Soledad
1. Prologue: Say When

**Something of a Tragedy

* * *

**Prologue - Say When

* * *

A lone soldier held his gun tightly. This was it. This is what Johto wanted. This is what war was all about, right? He stepped out of his hiding place - an overturned bench that smelled of sea spray - and aimed his gun at a frantic passerby. He wouldn't know what was coming.

And then his aim slipped. Instead of the heart, it hit the arm. The soldier cursed himself for the slip-up. The passerby screamed in pain and clutched his arm, the blood running down his limb. The boy couldn't have been older than twelve. Nevertheless the boy was just another missed target. Just another person. It didn't matter, did it?

The soldier changed guns, this time a better, more reliable rifle. He looked back to where his commander was issuing his comrades orders. Behind the commander was the endless Hoenn sea, one of the aforementioned country's pride. Soon, the soldier thought to himself, the blue sea will be red with it's own people's blood.

The soldier narrowed his eyes. The city was quiet. There was no more screams, no more gunshots. The Slateport Market was nothing more than a tragic battle scene with corpses laid across the ground. The contest hall, another pride of the city, was on fire. The beach? Stained with blood.  
Johto was victorious today.

_"Soledad, come on!"_

The soldier turned his head, his gun cocked and his fingers pressing against the trigger. A man with long, purple hair was stumbling to the city's exit that lead to the next route.  
A young woman trekked after him, her pink hair flowing down her body. She was distressed, crying, even. She looked back at the contest hall, then forward to her companion. The soldier pulled the trigger, the bullet coming in contact with her leg. The woman collapsed. The soldier smiled. Then, frowned. The man with purple hair cried out, "No!" He rushed to the woman and carried her bridal style, up the route, looking back to see if anyone was following them. The soldier aimed again at the man, then put his gun down.

The couple wouldn't live for much longer, anyway.

* * *

The scientist had worked on this project for the past six months. Hoenn wanted him to create a single vial of a disease. The perfect weapon.

For months he worked hours on end, crafting the perfect weapon. Kiss of Death, he called it. Because once the virus, or someone that has the virus, touches, or 'kisses', your skin, your heart slowly stops pumping blood and your immune system breaks down. Thus, begins the stage of death. Just one vial can kill all of Johto. Slowly, but surely, Hoenn will be victorious.

He could feel it.

* * *

Drew and May had arrived in Petalburg City two days later.

They had arrived from Slateport City, a place both of them nearly lost their lives in. It was supposed to be just a contest thing. Nothing more. Them; Drew, May, Soledad, and Harley. Competing in a contest with their pokemon; Drew with his Flygon, May with her Blaziken, Soledad with her Lapras, Harley with his Cacturne. A friendly contest, that's all. No one was supposed to get hurt, or - may Arceus forbid - get killed.  
Drew was out second round. Then May. Then there was the battle between Soledad and Harley "Like old times, darling." Harley had said to Soledad before the round. "Don't count on it, Harley, I'm going to win this time." Soledad had said.

And so the round began. Lapras performed a spectacular combination of Sheer Cold and Water Pulse, where it glowed with a magnificent hue of light blue, a ball of water coming from it's mouth at the same time. Cacturne staggered for minute after taking the hit, but it proved to be the stronger pokemon, as it held on. The grass/dark type pokemon retaliated with Bullet Seed and an Energy Ball combination.  
"Lapras is unable to battle! Cacturne—"

That's when the soldiers started firing. They remembered seeing Harley and Soledad fleeing the contest hall, but the chaos inside... it was unbearable. The two were lucky to get out. Others, not so much. Drew had witnessed a boy around his age get shot by a soldier. May had saw a pair of lovers die by the hands of a soldier with a gun.  
It would be safe, at Petalburg. They would be together; Norman, Caroline, May, Drew, and—

—Not Max. He ran away as soon as he heard of the shooting - that terrible day at Slateport - thinking that May had died.

_"I promise we'll find him, May," Drew had told her the night they arrived. She was sobbing, tears running down her face. Drew held her that night._  
_"You promise?" She had asked him through tears. He nodded._

The next day, the two of them set off in search of the boy.

* * *

Harley set down the crying Soledad at the end of the route, just before the water's edge that connected Route 110 to 103. "You okay?" He asked, ripping a piece of his green shirt to tie around his friend's wound. Soledad cried out in pain, the green fabric staining red. Harley muttered, "I'm sorry," before taking the pinkette's pokeball that she was holding - Lapras - and released the plesiosaur-like pokemon. It yawned, then screeched at its owner in a worried manner. Harley petted the Lapras's head, calming it down, "Shh, Soledad's hurt. We need you to surf across this body of water." It nodded, then jumped into to stretch of water.

Harley picked her up again and walked to the Lapras. He then set her down on its shell carefully, so that he didn't hurt her anymore. Harley bent down to comfort the crying Soledad. He smiled weakly, then stroked her hair, "You're gonna be okay, honey. We'll be together, all the time, 'kay?" Soledad nodded, wincing. Harley stared off into the west. What was going on?

* * *

**_-A/n- review_****  
**


	2. Chapter 1: The Only Exception

Something of a Tragedy

**

* * *

**

**Harley - The Only Exception**

"I swore to myself that I'm content  
With loneliness.  
'Cause none of it was ever worth the risk  
But you are the only exception"  
The Only Exception, Paramore**  
**

* * *

_- Six Years Later -_

I hated the way the train smelled like. It was a sort of greasy smell, like someone had just finished eating five million hamburgers and left the wrappers scattered everywhere. Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I should explain myself. My name is Harley Willis (yes _the _Harley who dressed up like a Cacturne and called everyone "honey") and I am currently on the train heading to Kanto from Sinnoh. The war had left me shaken, which would explain why I'm so nervous to be on this train. I'm not as bad as Soledad here. She was crying when we boarded the train. Of course, the war's effects on us probably wasn't the only reason why she was crying.

The train ride to Kanto from Sinnoh would prove to be a long one. We've been on the train for three hours, and yet we're still in Sinnoh. My companion's breathing became shaky, her eyes fluttering every so often. She was worried, tired, sad - I truly did feel bad for her. The divider between us was raised up, her body leaning against mine. She was practically in my arms.

Soledad looked at me with watery eyes - her usually bright and busy blue eyes fading into something distant, like to a grey hue. Grey didn't fit her. Even though she was always quiet... calm... collected - no, even then, blue was her color. I know she was hurting. It was obvious.

She whispered something inaudible. I gazed at her, "What?" She squeezed my hand tight, then whispered again, "Call my house. Please..." She tore away from my eyes and cried silently, almost so that no one can hear her. But I did.

"Okay, hon, I'll call," I said, pulling out my phone. I had felt instant pity for her. Which was strange. Pity was a foreign emotion for me. I handed the phone to my companion, who in a shaky voice mumbled a quick "thanks" before pressing it to her ear.

Soledad had been emotionally unstable for the past seven months. Her brother Sammy had caught the Johto-Hoenn Virus last year, and since then Soledad had been worried and lacked the strength to move on in her career. The Johto-Hoenn Virus (A virus so cruelly nick-named "The Kiss of Death") was a region-wide disease that was developed by scientists. The ongoing war between Johto and Hoenn had caused the spread of the virus, claiming not only human lives but pokemon lives as well.

It was hard, you know? To ignore the fact that the war right now is killing people I may or may not know. To ignore the fact that I lost two of my closest cousins to the Mauville-Slateport shooting. To ignore the fact that right now, my best friend of seventeen years is crying her eyes out because her brother is _dying_ of that evil creation of that _virus _and I can't do anything to make her feel better. It's hard to ignore things like that, but you have to.

It's hard to sleep at night when you know your best friend is hurting, when you know that she hasn't been stable for the past six years. It's hard to sleep at night, knowing that you're killing yourself with vodka, wine, whiskey, beer - demons with a taste to them. But I can't help it. The alcohol helps with grief, regret, and pain, because it dulls the senses. You can't feel the grief, regret, and pain once you emerge yourself into the vodka or whatever demon you are drinking.

I gazed back to Soledad. She stared back, her eyes telling me that Sammy's getting worse, that he might not have long. She whispered to the phone - nay, to her brother - in a broken voice, "I-I love you, Sammy. D-Don't you forget it, o-okay?" She closed my phone and handed it back to me.

"H-Harley, his fevers raising and he's in so much p-pain. He can't live for much longer," she traced the outline of my hand, her fingers wobbling in fear, then gazed into my eyes, "I m-might not have the chance to say goodbye." She began to cry. A single tear raced down her face, then her cries became louder, something similar to a sob, but yet softer. I touched her shoulder, to which she jerked away from, "Just leave me be, Harley. Please.."

It was no use, comforting someone who was clearly beyond that. But I tried, whispering softly, "You know, Soledad, he'll hold on, just for you. Don't expect him to let go just yet. I promise you that." Her tears stopped, and she looked at me with a questioning look, "You really promise?" I smiled weakly, wiped a stray tear from her cheek, then took her right pinky into my left.

"Pinky promise, Sol." And she laughed. Something she hasn't done for six months. And then I laughed. Something _I _haven't done sober for months. She wrapped her arms around me, her nose nuzzling against the crook of my neck. "Thank you, so much Harley. For being by my side for the last six years."

I returned the hug, smiling into her hair, "Soledad, it's my eternal job to be by your side. Because, I'm your best friend, you know?" Then she laughed _again_. Arceus, there's improvement in this girl, I swear. She let go and settled into her seat. She grabbed my hand, a sly smirk spreading across her face. I smiled back.

* * *

A man twisted into the seat directly next to us. He smirked at me, then to Soledad, and then stuck out his hand. "Seamus. Seamus St. Riley. And you, mister?" He looked as if he was about the same age as us - twenty-five, possibly - and had a slight Irish accent. Strange around these parts, if you ask me. He had blonde hair that was curled at the end, and light blue eyes that resembled the sky. I took his hand and shook it firmly, replying in a monotonous tone, "Harley Willis. And this," I gestured to Soledad, who waved shyly, "is Soledad Rush." Seamus smiled at Soledad and tipped his hat, "G'day, miss." She smiled and leaned back onto the window.

I stared at Seamus, then said, without thinking, "What brings you around Sinnoh?" I pointed out the window, which displayed the sad remains of Solaceon Town - which was nothing more than a mass of rusted and crumbled buildings. A sad reminder of the warning bomb that was sent over Sinnoh. Seamus fiddled in his seat, opened his mouth to speak, then took out his bag. He rummaged through it, then took out a picture of a very pretty girl of probably nineteen or twenty. She wore a goofy grin on her face - maybe she was laughing? - and had black hair that seemed endless. Seamus's sly grin faded into a somber smirk while he held up the picture for us to see. "This is the last person I remember seeing last time I was here. I need to find her. She's my last connection in this country," he paused, then took out another picture, this time of a small girl with vibrant red hair and a knowing smirk etched upon her face. She looked like Seamus, despite the hair color. He spoke again, "My sister, this is her - Sarah, that's her name - and grandfather lived in this town - Solaceon Town, if you're wondering. They died as soon as the bomb made contact with the ground. I want to spend my life here, so that I can never forget them."

Soledad sniffled behind me. Both Seamus and I looked back at her. She shook her head, then said, "Seamus, I'm sorry. For your loss and - everything that's happened to you. But you're in for some terrible news. Japan isn't the same anymore. It's nothing but a war-ridden land with nothing but empty bombshells and a sense of death lurking around the country. It'll always have that horrible war stuck to it's name, even if Japan is recovering. A war has it's scars, some more obvious than others. Take me for example. My brother, he's dying because of that devil of a disease."

Seamus nodded, then said, "Yes, miss. A war does leave scars. But that doesn't mean we can't fix them. This is how I'm going to cope with my personal scar, as you'd put it. How are you going to cope?" He pulled a pillow from the side of his seat and placed it near his head. He yawned, then looked to Soledad, "Sorry to hear about your brother, miss. God bless him." His voice was kind and sincere, something odd coming from someone who doesn't know what happened to her brother. "Likewise," Soledad whispered. Seamus closed his eyes.

I looked to her, then draped my arm over her shoulder. She leaned into me, and I noticed that her hair smelled something like a Roselia. Sweet, with a touch of strawberry. She twirled with my amethyst hair, then sighed once more. "What's wrong, honey?" I asked.

"Everything," she dropped the piece of hair she was toying with and relaxed her arms, "You know we haven't talked in awhile, Harley."

I laughed, "We're talking right now. We talked earlier. We talk a lot, Sol. You just don't realize it 'cause you're always so deep in thought."

She shook her head, "No, that's not what I meant." She sighed again and sat up. Soledad spoke once more, "Remember when we were kids? We would talk about our dreams, hopes, loves, wishes... things we wanted so damn bad. We don't talk about silly stuff like that anymore. Now it's always about war, and Sammy, and the virus, and things that we shouldn't have to worry about at our age. We should be thinking about falling in and out of love, contests, pokemon, and anything of the like."

"So what are you saying?" I questioned. Soledad shrugged, "I dunno. Why not talk about stuff like that? Have you ever fell in love?"

I cringed at her question. I knew the answer right away. I couldn't tell her though... if I did, only Arceus knows what'll happen. "No," I lied, "I haven't. Have you?" Truth is, I have. In and out with the same girl for the past seventeen years.

She paused, then said, "Yeah, you could say that. But I'm not sure, you know?" She took my hand and her eyes met mine. She smiled and laughed, her body shaking with joy. I had to admit, Soledad's laughter was quite contagious. I had to laugh as well.

"W-Why are you laughing?" I asked. She shook her head, then said, "Never mind. Remember when you dressed up as May? That was hilarious!" She giggled and fiddled with my hair, "It's a shame you cut your hair. It was... pretty, when it was long. Now it's just spiky, short, and boring."

I stared at her, and with a chuckle, said, "Don't remind me of my teenage years, honey. Mayley, hah! What was I thinking?" Soledad smiled. She sighed, then said, "Harley, don't take this the wrong way but... are, are you gay? Or were you..."

I stopped smiling. I wondered why she said this out of the blue. It was random, for Soledad at least. I opened my mouth to speak, then grabbed her hand. I didn't know what to say to that. I have never really physically attracted to anyone but... well, Soledad. I'm not gay. I used to be quite the flamboyant man at one point, but not anymore. The war changed that.

I gazed at her then said, "No, honey, I'm not gay. Never was." I tore away from her eyes, then closed them. "Harley, I'm sorry, you didn't have to answer that... I say stupid things, you know that."

"No, no, it's fine. I mean you have to really know me to understand. Which no one really does, Sol." I gazed at Seamus's sleeping figure, then to Soledad's wondering eyes. I pointed to Seamus, "He's probably thinking, 'Oh jeez, what a fuckin' faggot.' Same thought that probably rang through everyone else's head when I met them. Truth is, Sol, I'm not just another freak. I'm just a guy that's a little bit more in touch with his feminine side, that's all." I smiled at this.

She stared at me for a while, then leaned into me, her face just a few inches from mine. "This," she kissed my left cheek, "Is for being my best friend." She then kissed my right cheek, "This is for being there for me for the past six years of the goddamn war." She smirked at me, "This is for being the sweetest guy in the whole freakin' world." She hugged me tightly, as if I was going off to war.

I hugged her back. She leaned out of the embrace, "But how dare you say that I don't know you? I've spent the last seventeen years of my life right beside you? I know you better than anyone else," she cocked her head, which scared me for a minute. She finished her sentence, "Not that I'm bragging, darling." She patted my head and returned back to her seat. "Goodnight, Harley. Love you."

Damn, I thought she was going to kiss me, or something. Seemed like it. I replied back to her, "G-Good night, Soledad. Love you too."

* * *

**-A/n- **Soooo you got some Harley/Soledad fluffiness there :) Review! It's my only inspiration :) Thanks to everyone who reviewed!


	3. Chapter 2: The Scientist

Something of a Tragedy

* * *

**Drew - The Scientist**

_"Nobody said it was easy_  
_It's such a shame for us to part_  
_Nobody said it was easy_  
_No one ever said it would be this hard"_

The Scientist, Coldplay

* * *

I held the gun tightly as May and I entered the path. The route heading to Mauville City was dangerous, despite the lonely feeling to it. The Fiery Path deemed the safest way, as the desert would only be hard to maneuver through because of the ongoing sandstorm and the thieves lurking there. However, the Fiery Path was also notorious for the many criminals and crazies (what was the difference between the two anyway?) that occasionally passed through.

The war had changed us. We weren't the silly, immature teenagers that only cared about winning contests or defeating gyms leaders. We couldn't do those things anymore. We had to fight, hurt, and kill for our safety. A lot has changed in eight years.

Six years ago, when I was twelve, Johto soldiers arrived in Slateport City with a mission to kill as many people as they can. May, Soledad, Harley, and I were competing in a contest, unaware of the disaster happening outside the contest hall. A troop of soldiers of ten had barged in, guns loaded, and started firing. The four of were separated and to this day, May and I still do not know whether or not Soledad and Harley are still alive.

We headed up the bicycle route after what Hoenn deemed, "Slateport Massacre." From there, we headed to Verdanturf Town, warning people on the way. We crossed through the tunnel and from Rustboro City we went to Petalburg City to meet up with May's family. According to Norman, Max had ran away as soon as he heard of the massacre. May was devastated. I may have never liked the little squirt, but I was worried... for his safety, for the Maple family, for May...

I promised her we would find him. Six years later, her whole family is dead - either wiped out by the virus or were killed by the gun of a Johto soldier. Six years later, Max is still missing and May is still waiting - for what, I don't know.

May's Blaziken grunted, then poked me in the back. I looked back at it. He was heading towards the secondary path hidden behind two boulders, pushing them aside.

"May," I whispered, grabbing her shoulder. The brunette turned around, then stopped walking, "What?"

"Blaziken's going that-a-way," I pointed to her pokemon, who was already out of our sight. She narrowed her eyes, then widened them, "Oh no. Oh Arceus, Drew we've gotta get out, like, _now_." She pulled me towards the nearing exit, her legs running at full speed. We passed through the secondary path, shouting, "Blaize, we gotta go!" Her pokemon darted out almost seconds after, a trail of bandits following it, wielding hi-tech guns and daggers. The group retreated back to their hiding spot, visibly disappointed in themselves for not getting us.

One of them caught eye of May, screaming at her, "You're - you're May..." She obviously didn't hear her. I turned my head to see the owner of voice.

She looked awfully familiar, with her long, red hair and deep blue eyes. She had thigh-high boots and was dressed in a dark blue top and black shorts. I couldn't put a name on her face.

* * *

We approached the path's exit in no time. May, shaken and alert, returned Blaziken back to it's pokéball. I pressed my fingers against the gun's silver barrel, then to it's trigger, then back to the silver barrel. It was a habit for me, to touch the trigger. I've killed people with a single push of the tiny trigger. I hope I don't kill again, but it's my life against their's. I don't plan on dying soon, and neither is May.

I looked up from my thoughts to see May polishing her knife. She did this often, I noticed. I don't know why, though. She had to though, every single day, for some reason. She had to take out her white cloth and wipe her already pristine knife. It was a habit. Just like pulling a trigger for me, she was used to cleaning the dagger.

"So how did you know there were bandits?" I asked. She blinked, then gazed at me. Her eyes met mine and in a way, I wanted to keep it like that; her, staring atme in a curious gaze. She tore away from my eyes and stated in a low whisper, "It was too quiet. I saw movement in the secondary path and a shadow much different than Blaziken's. It seemed obvious to me." She returned to her knife-polishing.

"You're quiet today," I observed. She scoffed, then put her knife away. "Well you're talkative today," she retorted. I nodded. I opened my bag to put my gun away, seeing as we didn't really need it. May shook her head and grabbed the gun from my hands, stating, "No. Don't put it away. If you're too lazy to carry it, I'll hold it."

I nodded slowly, trying decipher her sudden statement. Someone was in a bitchy mood today. I shrugged, deciding to let her carry it. Whatever.

I took one of the pokéballs that were hanging from my waist. After the massacre, I decided to keep them handy, as we didn't have a gun until the summer of 2010. My strongest pokemon were the easiest to reach: Absol, Flygon, and Roserade, while the other ones were still stuck inside my backpack. Even though we have a gun and a knife around us 24/7, I still keep them around my waist. You never be too careful, especially nowadays.

I released Absol from his pokeball. The pokemon stretched and ran up to me, visibly happy to see me. I bent down to pet the dark-type, "Hey, missed you too, buddy." Absol licked my hand, then ran up to May and jumped on her. She laughed, "Hey there, missed you too." My pokemon nuzzled against one of the pokeballs that were hanging from her belt. She laughed again and released her Glaceon, who then pounced on Absol playfully, then pounced on her owner.

I smiled.

"Hey, wait up! You - you! You're the one he wants!" The same red-headed girl I saw came dashing towards us. I hissed at Absol, "Get ready. May, you have the -" My companion was already aiming the rifle at the woman. She stopped, then held up her hands, "Woah, woah, don't shoot!"

May didn't move. I could see that she was already pressing against the trigger. I looked back to the shaking woman, then shouted in a steady voice, "Whatever pokemon, or weapons you have, drop it. Now." The woman slowly dropped one of her hands to her left boot, pulled out a handgun, then set it on the ground, sliding it our way. She threw the pokeballs that were hanging from her waist our direction, then pulled out another, more hi-tech gun from her belt, sliding it to May. She backed away, "There, that's all I have."

May still didn't move, "I don't believe you. I see a knife hanging from your belt, behind you." The woman dropped the dagger and put it on the ground. "Happy?"

May slowly put down the gun, then said, "What's your name?"

"J-Jessie," she said. May cocked her head, then raised her gun again, "Jessie? Team Rocket Jessie, right?" She nodded. I couldn't believe it either. I spat at the criminal, "If you're Jessie, where's that Meowth and James you're always hanging out with."

"D-Dead. Like everyone else I know," she glared at me, pain obvious in her voice. May lowered the gun, "I-I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I am too." Jessie looked away, then shot a glare to May, "Wait! You're the one the boss wants."

"The boss?" I questioned. Jessie nodded, "G-Giovanni."

"He's still the big, bad, boss of Team Rocket? He's so old now." May looked to me. Jessie shook her head, "N-No. Not Team Rocket, not anymore, at least. It's Team Johto now."

May raised the gun, "What?"

Jessie choked out a mangled sob, "Can you help me?" And then, shots coming from the Fiery Path rang out.

She keeled over, her blue shirt darkening with blood.

* * *

**-A/n- Dun dun dun! What will become of Jessie and May and Drew? :O Review. Please. **

**Oh yeah, the titles of the chapters are the songs that inspired me to write. BUT THE REVIEWS ARE THE ONES THAT INSPIRE ME TO WRITE EVEN MORE! - Consider this, dear reader :)**

**THANK YOU TO ALL WHO REVIEWED THE LAST TWO CHAPTERS and/or STORY ALERTED/FAVORITED! **


	4. Chapter 3: Not Afraid

Something of a Tragedy

* * *

**Seamus - Not Afraid**

_"I'm not afraid, to take a stand,  
Everybody, c__ome take my hand,  
We'll walk this road together, through the storm  
__Whatever weather, cold or warm  
Just lettin' you know that, you're not alone  
Holla if you feel like you've been down the same road."  
_Not Afraid, Eminem

* * *

_It was a vacation at Lake Valor, the day I saw her._

_ Sarah was splashing around in the lake's deep trenches. She was quite the swimmer for someone so young. Grandfather was talking to his Vaporeon and Hippowdon. Not unusual of him, considering his bond with those two to be as long as fifty years. While Sarah was swimming and Grandfather chatting with his pokemon, I sat beside my Sneasel. I was drawing the outline of the lake - a beautiful bounty of water that seemed to stretch across all of Sinnoh. It was a magnificent place to draw and sketch nature and pokemon and -_

__

-Her. She had long, black - maybe a dark brown - hair. Her eyes were green - the color of the surrounding trees, to be exact - and had a pair of Plusle and Minun on her shoulders. The two were fidgeting and fighting each other - Minun was obviously dominant. The girl smiled at the two, then sat the two down. Minun was pouting, whilst Plusle was sticking it's tongue to it.

She was beautiful. Beside her was two pokéballs - I assumed they were for the two electric pokemon beside her. But, as usual, I was wrong. She took one of them and released a blue and yellow wolf-like pokemon - Manectric. The other one, though, she kept on her belt.

I started to draw the scene; The girl, the pokemon, the nature around them. And then, something dropped on my head.

An acorn. I looked above. Minun. I laughed at the innocent façade it attempted, but then it thundershocked me in embarrassment.

Ow_. Sneasle growled at the Minun, then ran up the tree after it. He came back down after a good two minutes, obviously burned by the Minun's powerful thundershock. _Double ow_._

__

"Mini! What did I say about randomly shocking people?" The girl came dashing towards the Minun, the Plusle and Manectric not far behind. Minun - Mini, I assumed - giggled as it raced up the tree.

The girl stopped running - visibly out of breath - and peered at me. She smiled, then put out her hand. I took it and shook her hand firmly (but not too firm) and returned the smile.

Her skin, I noticed, could be compared to an olive tree.

"My name's Rebecca Shay," she pointed up to the hiding Minun, the explained, "And that's Mini the mischievous Minun."

_I laughed and pointed to my Sneasel (who was still upset at the electric pokemon) and introduced him to Rebecca, "This is Sneasel, he's... an interesting pokemon. My name's Seamus St. Riley, by the way." Sneasel went ahead and slashed my face with his claws. Rebecca laughed and asked, "You don't seem to be from here. What are you doing here?"_

_"Visiting my grandfather and sister," I said while rubbing the painful scratches away.  
_

_"Ah, so," she paused to return her pokemon to their pokeballs, then continued, "I gotta go. Um, I live in Jubilife City. You can find me in the PokeMart, I work there. Come visit some time? I wanna get to know you."_

_"S-Sure," I said. She waved good-bye and left. I leaned against the tree as Sneasel nudged me. He winked._

_"Oh shut up." I returned him back to his pokeball._

_

* * *

_

I woke from my dream-slash-flashback. It was as if I was reliving it. I wish I was, and not on this train trying to find Rebecca. It's been awhile since I saw her. She had dyed her hair red, that much, I knew. I wished I could hold her again, love her, and never let her go. I wanted to find her again,

I looked outside the window. It was night, and of course, I was awake. I was always awake at night. I looked beside me; Harley and Soledad were sleeping. The latter was leaning on Harley, who was leaning on his left arm. I smiled at the two and wondered if they were together. Probably.

Almost instantly, I felt a pang of jealousy run through me. They - Harley and Soledad - had what I lost. They had someone to talk to, someone to lean on, someone to _love_. I didn't have anyone anymore. Sarah and Grandfather? Dead. Sneasel? I released him so that he could have a better chance of surviving. Rebecca? I'm trying to look for her. It's terrible to continue on.

I toyed with the pillow that laid on my lap. I wanted to sink into the pillow and sleep - Arceus, I was so tired. But I didn't want to dream about Sarah's death again, I didn't want to see the face of my Sneasel again, the confused look it gave me when I released it. I didn't want to see Rebecca again; I didn't want to miss her and sink back into the depression I was just in. Sleep was dangerous for me. To sleep was to reminisce, to remember all the things that happened. And, let me tell you, most of things that happened to me so far weren't necessarily the most pleasant things I have experienced.

"Hey."

I looked to where the voice had come from. Soledad. "Um, hi," I replied back. She stretched and leaned into the chair, her pink hair messy from her nap. I gazed at her; she was pretty, with her pale blue eyes and her pale-rose hair. Soledad sighed loudly and caught my stare, and laughed.

"I don't like sleeping either," she said, with a little giggle.

"What?" I asked. That was random.

"I don't sleep at night. That's when the nightmares get worse." She sighed again, then looked to me, to Harley, then back to me.

"Nightmares?" I felt stupid repeating her.

"Bad dreams, dreams that make you shake with fear while your sleeping. The ones that make you wake up crying, screaming...nightmares, you know? They suck." Her stare was empty, lifeless. It was creepy, the way she looked at me. She pulled her legs to her chest.

"You have nightmares? Like what?" I probably shouldn't have said that. She looked up from her stare.

"I have one that always happens - its the worse one too. My brother, Sammy, you see, he's dying of that...devil of a disease. And Harley and I are the train right now to visit him before... Anyway, in my dream,we're getting closer to Johto, and a group of bandits in blue and black came and killed Harley. Right in front of me. And then they started to scream and started cursing Hoenn, and -" her voice broke and I could see she was trying to restrain from crying.

"You - you don't have to finish, it's okay -" I tried to comfort her. Which, I'm really, _really_ bad at.

"No, no, I'm fine. And that's it. There are other nightmares...but that was the worse one," she lowered her voice to a whisper, then finished, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have plagued you with this rant of mine, I have a horrible habit of talking none stop about my problems. I'm sure you're -"

"Don't sweat it, Soledad. Seriously, I know how you feel. I was like that, too. And you know, sometimes people just need to talk. It's fine," I assured her. But she just shook her head.

"No, its_ not_ fine," she stated before waving off the subject, "Just forget it. Let's talk about something else."

"Okay," I said. If she didn't want to talk about it, fine by me. She's kind of scary when she's on the edge of tears. What happened to this girl to make her so... unstable?

"So... why not play a game of questions?" She asked, breaking the short silence.

"Okay. Want to start?"

"No, go ahead." She began to hold an empty stare again, but this time, to the sleeping Harley.

"Are you and, Harley, together? Like, a couple?" Awkward much? Arceus, I'm so bad at conversations. Her face flushed, her cheeks turning a rosy color. She shook her head and stuttered, "No - no, never. I mean, there's a _chance _but as of now... we're just best of friends. We're really close, that's all. I - yeah... So, um, I guess it's my turn."

"Oh, okay, so you and Harley, are just friends?" Interesting.

"Yeah. So what are you doing on this train? Like where are you going?" she flipped her bangs so that I could see her face. Beautiful - no, no Seamus, snap out of it! I love Rebecca, I should not be attracted to _Soledad_, a person I just _met_. I pondered for a moment - what _was _I doing on this train?

"I have no freaking idea. I'm looking for a girl - Rebecca Shay - that used to be my girlfriend the summer I visited Sinnoh. I have no idea where she is, though, but she's the last person I remember seeing in Sinnoh, aside from Sarah and Grandfather, that is," I laughed, "You know, that girl was the first person I loved with all my heart."

"Aw," Soledad said.

"Ha, ha. My turn," I laughed at Soledad's "hurt" expression, then asked, "So how did you meet Harley?"

"He's a childhood friend. He lived in Slateport City, though, while I lived in Pewter. Our families were close though, as we would always travel to Slateport every summer," she paused, then said with a more cheery tone, "But we weren't the best of friends until I started my journey. You see, I had this crazy dream of becoming a world-class pokemon trainer. But then...then I started watching Harley on TV competing in contests and just fell in love with the idea participating in contests. And so I did. I ended up winning the Kanto Contest Festival and seventeen other ribbons to match. And I met up with Harley when we were sixteen, and from then on we traveled together."

"Oh cool," I said. She nodded.

"Yeah. So tell me about Rebecca."

"That's not a question," I said in a sing-song voice.

"You know what I mean."

"She's the prettiest girl you would ever meet. She had long, waist-long, black hair. Her eyes were a dark green - haunting, yet beautiful at the same time - and skin with such a perfect complexion, even Aphrodite would be jealous. Of course, this is coming from a lover's perspective, so my opinion would be biased. I love her so much, though. Her snorting laugh, her terrible habit of cussing in every sentence, her so off-key singing voice - I miss her so much."

"Seems like you love her a whole lot."

"I do. So tell me about Harley."

"That's not a -"

"You know what I mean." I winked at her.

"He's... good to me. Harley's been there for me when I wake up from those wretched nightmares. He gives the best hugs, cooks the best cookies, makes the worse coffee, and makes me laugh. I love him because he's put up with me for the past six years of this war. We've been through a lot of shit. He almost got killed because of me. I almost _killed _him. I have terrible emotional breakdowns where I wold cry like there's no tomorrow. And he wouldn't tell me to shut-up and suck it up. He would hold me until I stopped crying. And I feel... lucky to have a friend like Harley." She clenched her fists tight as she said his name.

"Sounds like you two would be the perfect couple," I teased, pulling the conversation into something less serious.

"Shut up," she grinned, laughter breaking from her serious façade. I shook my head, then said, "No I'm serious! You guys must be crazy to not get together!"

"Fuck you!" She giggled and threw her pillow to me. I covered my face with my arms and laughed, throwing the pillow back to her. My aim was terrible, as it landed on...

...Harley, who grumbled in his sleep, barley opening his eyes. Soledad covered her mouth to stifle her laughter, but she failed, as she began to crack up, rolling onto Harley in the process. Harley blinked quite a few times before saying, "Well aren't you a little hyper today, honey." Soledad glanced at me, then said, "Yeah.."

"So what were you two doing while I was sleeping?" Harley raised his eyebrows and shifted his eyes to me, which scared me. His stare was as if he would kill me if I did anything to Soledad... creepy, much?

"Talking," Soledad winked at me when he wasn't looking. Harley nodded, then draped his arm protectively over Soledad, who scooted closer to him. I smiled at his jealousy. It was amusing, really.

* * *

**A/n: I like the way this chapter turned out at the end. lol...oh Harley. I'm starting like Seamus/Soledad though... hm... :) Review telling me which is better: Seamus/Soledad or Harley/Soledad. Your opinion may matter :) Also... review. I love reading them. *important: Next chapter will not be posted until next week. I have 7th Grade registration coming up (yes, I'm twelve... shh..) and a lot of crap going on with friends and stuff :) School starts in a month :/ **

**Up next: Jessie - dead, or alive? Song: I have no flippin' idea. I have to look at my iPod haha.**


	5. Chapter 4: Pocketful of Sunshine

Something of a Tragedy

* * *

May - Pocketful of Sunshine

"Take me away: A secret place.  
A sweet escape: Take me away.  
Take me away to better days.  
Take me away: A higher place."  
-Pocketful of Sunshine, Natasha Beddingfield

* * *

_I froze. Right in front of me lay Jessie, Team Rocket agent that I only knew as my rival, dead._

_A few seconds ago, she was pleading for help—why, I don't know. And now she's lying face down in her own blood, five bullet wounds bored into her back. It was shaped like a "J"—creepy._

"May—Go, dammit, let's go!" _I felt Drew's tug on my arm. His eyes were focused on Jessie's body, the look on his face was as if he was horrified. I imagined my own face to be just like his: eyes wide in terror, fear, and sadness and an open mouth that could not close, for we had so much to say, yet we had no voice to carry out our thoughts. I could not move._

"May!"

_I heard his voice yet I could not see him. My vision was blurring—was I crying?— and my legs did not respond to my desperate thoughts. Move, dammit, move. Run, run, while you can!_

"Shit!"

_Bang!—goes another bullet. It skimmed my arm—barely, just barely. I thought I was hit. It felt like it._

"May!"

_I was running. We were running. I was scared. We were scared._

"Jessie—"

_Poor Jessie._

_

* * *

_

Team Johto? Team Johto. Team. Johto. _Team, fucking, Johto._ That was all we were talking about the night Jessie died. What were they after? Was it me? Why was it me?

Why is it _always _me?

"Drew," I shivered—the wind picked up and the Hoenn night was always cold. I couldn't sleep. Not anymore—Jessie's body ruined that for me. I pulled the sleeping bag closer to my body.

"Go to sleep, May," he said bitterly, his tone foreign to my ears. Why was he so...mad? He didn't look at me. Instead, his eyes were focused in on the surrounding areas.

"Are you mad?" I asked. I truly wanted to know. Did I do anything? He did not answer. Unless you call a sour scoff an answer, he ignored me. I asked again, this time, I made sure I sounded forceful, emphasizing on every word, "_Are you angry_?"

"Yes. Now go to sleep," he answered through clenched teeth. I could see his knuckles turning white as his grasp on the gun tightened, a sign that he was at his boiling point. I did not care if he was pissed off. I wanted to know why he was so mad, and that is that. I would pester him, even if it meant him yelling at me.

"Why are you angry?" I asked in an innocent manner, something I did not intend for.

"_Why_?" His tone was even more bitter this time—almost as if he was mocking me. "You could've gotten killed, May, _killed._ Like Jessie, if you forgot what death looked like."

"I know what death means. I'm not stupid," I retorted, my eyebrows furrowing at his sarcastic answer.

"You sure seemed stupid when you stood still for five minutes when there were gunshots firing at you!"

"How would you react, huh? She died in front of me! Of _course_ I would freeze!" I bit back. He raised up his gun in a mocking manner, then exasperated.

"Don't act like I wasn't there. She died in front me, too," he hissed.

"Why would you care, if I died? I'm still alive, aren't I? You should be thankful we both came out alive!" I pointed out, lowering the tone of my voice.

"That's the problem, _if _you died, _if_ it was _you_ and not Jessie—What am I to do? I don't want to lose you!"

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

"Do you understand how hard it was to lose Soledad? She was one of the only people I care about—if I lose you, I lose meaning to life. You are the only thing I have right now in my life. Please, just be careful, will ya?"

I nodded, not wanting to speak.

"You and Soledad meant the world to me—and then she, she _disappeared_ and now I only have you. Only you. Do you understand why I'm mad? I'm mad at you for almost dying, mad at Soledad for—for leaving. No, I'm mad at that stupid fag Harley—he was supposed to be there for her, _protect_ her. I trusted him to take care of Soledad when the soldiers were firing and...they're _both_ gone. I would kill to see them again."

I blinked, then summed up the strength to speak,"I know how you feel. I miss them. I miss _Max_. I would kill to see all three of them again. But...in a war, you never know. They might be dead, or you could always hope that they're alive. I doubt Max's alive... but I hope he is. And sometimes, that's what you need to stay happy: hope. But I'm ninety-nine percent sure that Soledad is alive. You may hate Harley, but he...he's her best friend. He won't let her die without him dying first." I reached over and grabbed his hand, assuring him.

He chuckled, then said, "Hope. I hope they're alive. I hope Harley's good to her. I hope one day we find Max."

I smiled, "Sometimes Drew, there are things you don't have to hope for. Because you know, deep down, you can feel it."

Hope. It's a funny thing. It will always, _always_ diminish the size of evil. There's a story about hope. A foolish girl once opened a box that contained all the evils in the world: envy, slander, vanity, greed, and pining. The evils spread across the mortal world, leaving the world miserable.

There was however something called hope inside the box. When the girl released all the evils, she also released hope, humanity's last salvation.

I love that story, not because it gives me hope, but it was the last story Max had told me before I left for the Hoenn Tournament.

Funny how Max told me about hope, because right now I'm hoping that Max is alive.

* * *

**A/n: Managed to get up another (short) chapter :) Shh, I'm grounded I'm at a friend's house haha. Yes, I'm not kidding, I'm really twelve :) Review: tell me what chapter (wrote two on my phone) would you rather see: A BONUS CHARACTER ONE, or another Harley POV chapter? Next chapter in a few days. Or until I get ungrounded.**

**Another leave-in-a-review thing: which do you like better (if you play the games)- Platinum or Emerald? I'm getting one of them soon but I need to pick haha :)**


	6. Chapter 5: Dead and Gone

Something of a Tragedy

* * *

Brock - Dead and Gone

_"Oh hey, I've been travelin' on this road too long_  
_Just tryin' to find my way back home_  
_But the old me's dead and gone_  
_Dead and gone."_  
-Dead and Gone, T.I. ft Justin Timberlake

* * *

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the sickly boy that stared back at me. Forrest was sitting in the small chair beside the sickly boy, chatting excitedly. The boy, Sammy, was pale and looked close to death - of course, he had the "Kiss of Death" or, more commonly known as the JHV. I smiled at Sammy, who smiled back. How could he smile knowing any day he would never wake up? Forrest smiled as well, then said, "Sammy, when's Soledad coming home?" The boy looked at my brother, then to me, then to stared at the picture beside him. I followed his gaze. The picture was of him at such a young age -four, five tops- on the back of a younger version of Soledad. Both of them were caught in the midst of laughter. Sammy looked back to Forrest, then said, "I don't know."

Forrest nodded, then said, "Okay. See you Sammy. I have to go back home. Are you going to stay, Brock?" I grunted; yes, in fact, I am. Forrest walked out of Sammy's room, leaving the two of us alone. The boy stared at me, then opened his mouth to speak, but closed it right away. He sighed and played with the tubes that were attached to his veins. I looked at him; was he crazy? "Sammy, don't do that." He laughed and continued to toy with the tubes, his eyes fixed on his blood that ran through the plastic tubes. I gritted my teeth. Surely, this boy was insane. "Don't play with it."

"Why?" he taunted, a smirk stretching upon his lips. Okay, this kid is something else...

"You know why," I crossed my arms before I lost interest in the conversation. This kid _has _to know that he could kill himself if he continued tugging at the tubes. Sammy shook his head. I pretended to not see Sammy, the tubes coming out of his arms, and the grin that danced on his lips. Instead, I focused all my attention on the wall in front of me: the oceanic shade of blue that was splattered on the previously white wall, the numerous badge cases that hung inside the display case, the medals that hung from rusty nails, the certificates that were pinned to the wall in a disorderly fashion (Of course it was. Forrest decorated the room, anyway.) and the crinkled pictures that were taped across the wall.

"I don't want to die here," Sammy said, still playing with the tubes, "I don't want to die restrained to the bed. I don't like how my badges are teasing me, _mocking _me. They're just a reminder of something I could've accomplished. I _could've_ got that last badge. I could've became a pokemon champion. But no. I don't want to look at the pictures of a family that could have been. A family that was so freaking perfect but the war just_ had_ to ruin it. I don't want my last glimpse of the world to be of Soledad crying her eyes out because her little baby brother is tied to the bed, surrounded by my mocking badges and a crappy memory of a family that could have been. I want my last glimpse of the world to be of Soledad laughing, smiling. Of the endless blue skies that I really wanna see right now. Of me and my Exeggutor, my Golduck, my Ninetales, my Tauros, my Wigglytuff, and my Crobat, the team that stuck by my side the whole freaking time."

I looked to Sammy, who was smiling, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. I could feel my heart sinking; this kid is one of a kind, I tell you. He lifted his arm, his hands reaching over to the set of pokeballs that lay on his bedside table. He grabbed all six, and one by one, he released all his pokemon from their pokéballs.

Golduck and Crobat immediately rushed to Sammy's side. From my understanding as a pokemon breeder, I could tell that those two had the closest bond to Sammy and that they were probably his first pokemon. Tauros looked at Sammy, the usual fury and rage that was bored into every Tauros's eyes were replaced with a sad gaze. Wigglytuff looked to me in confusion, a look that I knew meant, "Oh Sammy...what happened to my trainer?" His Ninetales crept slowly to her trainer, her tails pushing aside the others, her nose nudging against Sammy's frail hand. Exeggutor, meanwhile, charged to me, tears apparent in her eyes. Wigglytuff grabbed ahold of the grass/psychic type before she did any collateral damage to me (thankfully) and chided it, saying something along the lines of, "Wig, wiggly tuff!" It probably was explaining the current situation to her.

Sammy blinked, then placed his hand over Ninetales's head, petting it softly. He smiled, "I missed you." The pokemon purred under his touch, then licked his hand in affection. The Golduck, worried about his partner, asked a question, "Gol...duck?" Sammy frowned, then said, "No. Brock had nothing to do with this. You remember when Mom and Dad died? Yeah. That's going to happen to me." Tauros roared in anger. He stomped his foot, then said in an angry tone, "Tauros!" Sammy shook his head, then made a gesture that seemed to calm it down. It wandered the small room aimlessly, avoiding it's trainer's eyes. Crobat flew around in a manner that seemed like it was confused. Sammy grabbed ahold of the bat-like pokemon's wings, then said, "Calm down, Cro. You should've seen this coming! You knew I caught the virus a long time ago!" He let go of the Crobat, who shrank down next to the trainer in sorrow. Wigglytuff jumped on the bed and hugged Sammy, who hugged her back. Ninetales stuck by his side, her head resting on the pillow, letting him pet her as long as he wanted while Exeggutor and Tauros stood, sad and angry. Golduck sat down next to the fire type, silent and somber.

I decided to leave the reunited team alone. I headed out the door, the Pewter breeze and busy streets welcoming me back to the world I knew was home.

* * *

Pewter City was probably one of the least affected cities on the Kanto map. Behind it on the list was Pallet Town and Viridian City. Even now, Pewter City was still as normal as ever, despite the ongoing war. The lowest point in Pewter was when the JHV epidemic hit the lower part of Kanto, which was mainly Pallet, us, Viridian, and Cerulean. Other than the Rush family, no one I knew personally was struck by the disease. The closest person I knew that had died of the disease was actually Violet, Misty's sister.

Speaking of Misty, Ash and her had began a relationship in early 2012, around the time Violet had died and the war intensified from a battle where nothing big happened to a full-fledged bloodshed. Personally, I was happy for the two. But I still think that relationship only happened because they both were scared.

Around winter of 2012, I received word that Tracey had enlisted in the Kanto Army to fight against Hoenn in the war and Gary took the position of Pokemon Champion from Ash. Gary began making decisions, ordering all gym leaders from both Kanto and Johto to meet up every few months to strategize against Hoenn's government and defeat the region once an for all.

This led to the Verdanturf Shooting. Two hundred soldiers and pokemon were ordered to Verdanturf to start shooting at anyone they saw and attack. This strategy had proved to be a bad decision, as Hoenn gym leaders and soldiers were ordered to stay in every single town and city to be safe. This meant that the government was expecting us.

They did not expect us to attack Fortree City. Like Verdanturf, the orders were the same. However, we were mainly targeting Winona, the city's gym leader. Take her out, we take out one of Hoenn's leaders. And we succeeded.

Winona was killed almost right away, by none other than Tracey Sketchit. He was a hero in Kanto and Johto and was elevated to a commander, where he had a lot of power and authority.

The army soon found out that Winona was the best friend and rumored lover of Wallace, past Hoenn champion and one of the current Hoenn powerhouses in the war. Wallace, angry and heartbroken, cooked up a bloodthirsty vendetta against Tracey. The artist was killed no less than two months.

I don't understand all of this. And I don't think I ever will.

* * *

**A/n: Hm. I sorta like this chapter. Reviews make me happy and inspire me to update faster and write better! lol. A bit of PokeShipping and Gracefulshipping in there. :) Brock will play a sorta-not-really big part in this story, as he and Forrest visit Sammy every so often. He's not a character that I'll write about A LOT. Think of him as a chapter that shows you another perspective in the war. Pewter City is not like Slateport City which is a major battleground in the war. Just a regular city that is basically there, unaffected and normal. A nice break from the whole "HOLY CRAP THERE'S A SOMEONE OUT TO KILL ME" perspective that you see with May and Drew. Or a depressing perspective you see in Soledad and Seamus's chapters. Haha. **

Up Next? Harley. Song? Wonderful, by Gary Go. I haven't wrote it yet haha but I was listening to this today and it gave me inspiration. SO REVIEW. I'll try to update faster (despite school, soccer, ASB, girl scouts, and babysitting/tutoring kids...wow, I'm busy this school year.) REVIEW. :)

(haha) -Advertising- Like neoshipping (Butch/Cassidy)? Read and Review my story, Top of the World! :)


	7. Chapter 6: Wonderful Say I Am

Something of a Tragedy

* * *

Harley - Wonderful

_"The person that you were has died_  
_You've lost the sparkle in your eyes_  
_You fell for life - into its traps_  
_Now you wanna bridge the gaps"_

-Wonderful, Gary Go

* * *

_We were five. Don't you remember, Soledad? It was the fifth summer we spent together - the fifteenth one the Rush and Willis families spent together. Do you remember? You and me. Same age, same innocence, same toothy grin 'cause we didn't have all our teeth yet. We were the same. Do you remember taking naps under the Slateport sun? Us, on the same towel, lying on the front porch, tired 'cause we played an endless game of hide-and-seek or a tiring game of tag. Sol, you've gotta remember the times we spent up in the attic, searching for ghosts and ghouls. You were always scared. One time you even cried! But it was fine. I cried too, when you didn't see. I was too proud to let you see my tears. Oh, Sol, this is a good one! Remember Marla, our maid? The times we played Texas Hold 'Em with her and Earnest? Oh, Earnest was our butler! You don't remember? Shame._

_Oh Arceus, the night before you guys had to go back home to Kanto, you have to remember! Good, I mean, I'd be disappointed in you if you didn't. We were sitting on the roof. You and me. Our parents thought we were sleeping. Do you remember the waves, how stronger the tide was at night? The way it crashed onto the shore was terrifying! Surely, if we did go on the beach that night, we would've drowned. Or how bright the moon was. It was a full moon. And I scared you to death 'cause I told you a were-mightyena was gonna eat you. But you couldn't sleep after that. Sorry. But it's okay. I wanted to spend that night with you 'cause I wouldn't see you until the next summer. I think we fell asleep talking about how cool it would be to travel the world just the two of us. I didn't think it would be like this, though. You know, with the war and whatnot, it's hard to enjoy the world when someones fighting out there, killing someone. Like, literally out there—see, Seamus saw it!—oh, well anyway._

_And the following day? Worst day of my life. Both of us were crying and my mother was too. She gave you a stufted Teddiursa 'cause you wouldn't stop crying. You cried anyway. Big baby, you were...Ow! Don't hit me! I'm just stating the truth!_

_But as you were leaving, you remember do you? The girl? Oh, well anyway, as you got in the car, an older girl...my neighbor, what was it again? Lucy...Luca...Lulu...oh it was Lila! Lila gave you a blue balloon with a smiley face on it. But you gave it to me. You told me to keep it until the next summer. And I did._

_The next summer came around and you came back. We were six this time. The balloon had popped two weeks before and I, I was devastated. But you? You forgot about the balloon! I still have the last piece of the balloon. You want it? It has the smiley face on it._

_Ah. There's that smile, Sol! You remember!_

* * *

Soledad's face flushed as I concluded my story. She hid her face behind her hands, giggling. She cowered in the corner of her seat, her head pressing against the window. Seamus stared at her in an amused manner, a smile tugging at his lips. I smirked and winked at Seamus, who shook his head in bouts of laughter. I pointed to Soledad and said in a loud whisper, "She was quite the cry-baby back when she was a kid."

She went ahead and smacked me with her pillow.

"Ow," I complained, the pillow's imprint on my face beginning to sting. This made Seamus laugh harder. Soledad began to laugh as well, smacking my face softly in a "loving" way. I frowned, muttering a quick "ouch" before doing the same to her. I smiled at her expression, a goofy yet beautiful grin etched on her lips.

I looked back at our Irish companion, who was smiling wide, an expression that could only be read, "What-a-cute-couple." Not to mention the heart symbol he made with his hands. I narrowed my eyes into a warning glare. His sky blue irises softened, as if he was retreating from a a possible staredown. Good. He better be careful. I'm not afraid to—

"Uh...guys..." Soledad said in an unsure tone, waving her hands in front of our faces. I turned around to see Soledad pointing outside the window. The train had stopped in front of an old building. Behind the buliding, there were tall skyscrapers that seemed to light up the night sky, bright lights, and busy traffic. The building's name was poorly lit by a broken neon sign, "V-IL-T-NE TRA-N ST-TION" Or, if you plug in the real letters that I managed to figure out, it stated that it is the Veilstone Train Station. Or, our last stop before Sunnyshore City, where we would take the ferry to the next region.

* * *

The conductor fiddled with his keys as he stepped closer to us. I had noticed him before the others had, his stoic facial expression and narrowed hazel eyes filled with unquestionable sorrow and frustration—a mix that everyone deeply affected by the war would hold in their eyes. He was young—thirty, perhaps?—and wore a creepy looking smirk on his pale face. I did not make aware of his presence. Instead, I found humor in Seamus's horrible attempt at impersonating a British accent.

"Good day, old fellow! Shall we dine on fish 'n chips tonight? Or shall we watch the telly? Pip pip, cheerio!" He held his pinky up in a mocking manner, pursed his lips to create a snotty aura, and posed in a way that had made me laugh. Soledad laughed as well, in an obnoxious way that had forced me to laugh even harder. Between laughs, she had said through loss of breath and watering eyes, "That was hilarious!" Seamus relaxed from his failed attempt at a British person, smiled proudly, and said in his thin Irish accent, "I know. It's a gift. Some people genuinely think I'm British!" I rolled my eyes at this. Yeah, okay that's only possible if they were deaf.

Soledad shook her head vigorously, laughter bursting from her once more, and said, "No. That's not it! You can't do a British accent. You still have your Irish accent when you try to speak like that. Failure, Seamus, failure." This, may I add, made me crack up.

Seamus pouted, leaned against his chair, and crossed his arms. He shook his head and raised his hand, giving us the "talk to the hand" signal. He faked a teary façade and sniffed, "You people just don't appreciate true talent."

"I'd have to agree with this pretty little lady right here."

All three of us looked back. The conductor's eyes narrowed at the sight of us, his lips stretching into a smile. I stood up to greet him, but Soledad pulled me down. She whispered something that I did not hear, then looked at me. The conductor walked closer and stared at Soledad in a way that made the room uncomfortable. Soledad inched closer to me, her nails digging into my skin. My blood boiled as the conductor moved closer—so close that he was right between Seamus's seat and mine. He hovered over us with that same smile, that same expression. His eyes, however, brightened at the sight of Soledad. And I wanted to punch him. How dare he look at her like that?

He leaned into us, so that he forced me to gaze in his eyes. In a raspy voice, he whispered, "You're such a pretty girl. Don't you know it?" Soledad remained in place, her nails digging further into my skin, her face burrowing into my arm. She was scared. And I, I was angry. I restrained my hand from curling into a fist and punching the dude, and instead, I calmly spoke for Soledad.

"Why are you here?" I asked through clenched teeth. He leaned back and laughed. He laughed. How polite. If Soledad's nails weren't painfully attached to my skin, I would've did something rash. Like punch him, or something. Seamus, however, stood up and faced the so much taller conductor.

"You heard him. Why are you here?" Seamus gritted his teeth, his eyes emitting a sense of intimidation that made the conductor's eyes grow wide with surprise. For such a tiny man, he certainly was scary. The conductor backed away and raised his hands in defeat, then explained, "I am here to merely warn of the many crooks and creeps out in Veilstone. And with this beautiful girl you have with you, certainly someone would want to, you know..._want_ her. If you are smart, you will sleep in the train. I am. If you don't well, good luck.." He winked at Soledad, then repeated his "catchphrase."

"You're such a pretty girl. Eh, I'll be in my compartment, if you need anything. Or you wanna talk, or something." He clicked his tongue in a way that made me so angry. Soledad's hold on me relaxed, and smiled. Seamus and I, however, were not swayed with his attempts to get with Soledad, and almost as if we planned it, we both said, "She doesn't need anything." I looked at Seamus in surprise and saw that he too was looking at me in shock. Awkward? Yes, very much so.

The conductor shrugged and turned on his heels, not saying anything more. The compartment door shut behind him, and Soledad frowned. She ran her fingers over my arm, the imprints of her nails deeply cut into my skin. She looked down, and shook her head. She whispered in a shaky voice, the same one she uses before she cries, "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know, that, that I was pinching so hard...I-I can't...I'm sorry. Does it hurt?"

I shook my head, lifted her chin, and said, "No. Don't worry about it. I was scared of that guy, too." Her lips pursed and her eyes drifted away from mine.

Seamus, staring at us with a curious grin upon his face, got up. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes and said, "Well, I'm going out for a smoke. Have fun kids!" He walked down the aisle and before opening the door, he looked back, gave me a thumbs up, then walked out.

"Well that was strange," I commented, nudging Soledad's shoulder. She cracked a smile, then yawn. Midst yawn, she said, "I'm tired. G'night Harley..."

"Night, Sol."

She closed her eyes. And I? I stared at her sleeping figure, wondering about the things she dreamed behind her fluttering eyes. I brushed her bangs out of her face, then, I got out of my seat. I slipped my hand under the chair, my handing searching for the beer bottle I hid. I grabbed the glassy bottle, swished it around, then walked down the aisle, clutching the bottle close to my chest. Before leaving, I glanced back.

If Soledad knew about my constant drinking...I don't even want to think about it. I closed the door behind me, sighed, then uncapped the bottle.

* * *

A/n- Yay! A chapter's finally up. I'm hoping to get more reviews :( Lack of 'em lately. My updates will most likely be really slow. But...they'll also be longer. :)

Up Next - Seamus (yes, I know. May and Drew will be up in the chapter after this. In Seamus's A LOT will happen. Important things, too :P) Song? The Airborne Toxic Event's "Sometime Around Midnight"

**_REVIEW_**


	8. Chapter 7: Welcome to Mystery

Something of a Tragedy

**/Okay, this chapter has three VERY important (well important to plot development and stuff like that) parts to it. It goes Seamus - Soledad - Harley. It long. So enjoy!/**

* * *

Seamus - We Will Rock You

_"Buddy you're an old man poor man_  
_Pleadin' with your eyes gonna make you some peace some day_  
_You got mud on your face_  
_You big disgrace_  
_Somebody better put you back in your place"_

We Will Rock You, Queen

* * *

I crept out the door, my smile turning into a frown. Was I..._jealous_ of Harley? Why was it that a feeling of jealousy ran through me the second his fingers brushed her chin? Why was I feeling this way? I mean, I rooted for the two to get together...but _wow_. I pushed the thought of being jealous to the back of my mind and walked in a circle, eyeing the picture frame that held the world map. My mind raced as I scanned the room; a vase, a flower, a petal, purple. A picture, people, a man. The window, the night sky, the moon. I put all my focus into the surrounding area so that I may forget everything that happened today. The anger at the conductor for making advances on Soledad, the sympathy when I had saw the pain in her eyes, the envy that I had felt when I realized that Harley could touch her, hug her, kiss her, care for her and I couldn't.

Wait. Why was I feeling this way? Wasn't I in love with _Rebecca?_

I ceased walking in a circle and sauntered in the direction of the next room, where, the conductor had pointed out when I boarded the train, I could smoke freely. I opened the door, not bothering to close it. I took out the lighter and a single cigarette. I pressed it to my my mouth, lit it, and breathed it in. Smoking. I hated and loved it. I hated it 'cause it's bad for you, but I loved it because it felt amazing. I found it as a distraction from my sorrows and regrets.

I leaned against the wall, smoking and thinking. Thinking about a life without the war. It would've been a hell of a lot easier to find Rebecca. I would still have my Sneasel. And my sister would still be alive. And life...life would be much, much easier.

"Hi."

I looked to the direction of the unclosed door, a familiar purple-haired man sliding through the small crack between the door and the wall. Harley was holding a rather large bottle of beer, the glassy reflection depicting me, puffing a cloud of smoke. He pressed the bottle to his lips, sipped it, and plopped down onto the chair near him.

"You drink?" I asked, surprised. I did not expect someone like Harley to drink. Perhaps I found this hard to believe because he had too much focus towards Soledad that for him to have time on his hands to drink was seemingly impossible. Harley nodded, tapping the glass bottle in a rhythm I can only deem familiar. "Queen? I love that band. Shame they're in the States," I remarked, nodding my head to the beat, imitating Gene Simmons's drumming technique. Harley laughed, lifting the bottle to his lips once more. He pointed to me, holding his bottle to his chest, mimicking an overly dramatic face of a singer.

"Buddy you're a boy make a big noise, playing in the street gonna be a big man some day. You got mud on your face, you big disgrace, kicking your can all over the place! Singing—" He pointed to me. I laughed and continued the song.

"We will, we will rock you. We will, we will rock you!" Here, I sang more. Never had I had this much fun singing a song since, well, Rebecca. "Buddy you're a young man, hard man,  
shouting in the street, gonna take on the world some day! You got blood on yo face, you big disgrace. Waving your banner all over the place! Singing—" I puffed out a thing of smoke and pointed to Harley who pointed to me as well. In melody (if you wish to call it that), we finished the song. Harley and I cracked up after we concluded.

"You gotta love Queen! Bringing people together in an epic singing-festival since Arceus knows when," I joked, smiling, bringing the cigarette to me mouth once. Harley did the same with his bottle of beer.

"Seamus, you sound like a Glameow trying to sing while being ripped to shreds by a Sharpedo." Harley commented, his lips forming a wicked smirk.

"Harley, you sound like a Mightyena being—uh, um...—burned to death after getting into a fight with a Hippowdon! Yeah, that's it..." I said, my face flushing in embarrassment because I didn't have a great comeback.

Harley rolled his eyes. "Gee, Seamus, you're so great at making witty comebacks!"

"Eh, I know. I'm a genius! A genius, I tell you!" I smiled, puffing another grey cloud. I decided to change the subject. "So, when did you start drinking?"

Harley hesitated before raising the bottle to his lips, but drank anyway. He replied, "When I was seventeen, I had my first sip. But, uh, I didn't really drink a lot until I was twenty-four." He looked at me with curious eyes, then asked, "Why the sudden wonder?"

"No, no, I'm just asking. 'Cause you don't seem like you have a lot of time to drink. Does Soledad know?" I asked, returning the curious gaze.

He shook his head, "No…I mean, she really shouldn't. I promised her I wouldn't do anything that could damage my health. But look at me right now. Drinking like no tomorrow."

"So why do you drink? If you promised Soledad?"

"Because, when you look at the options before you, you have two ways to deal with grief. One, the better option of talking it out. Two, the drastic option of drinking, smoking, eating, sleeping, whatever that makes you escape from reality. I don't want to worry Soledad—she has problems of her own. So I chose drinking. And hey, I'm not hurting anyone. I don't get too drunk."

"Grief?" I asked. What could he possibly be grieving about?

"There was a period of time that I wanted to kill myself. I couldn't take it—the war, the deaths of my friends and family. It was too much. I couldn't tell Soledad about my feelings. She's not strong enough. She wasn't and she won't be for quite some time. And I still do contemplate about the thought of suicide. How easily I could overdose on aspirin, how I can die wit the slice of my throat. But I'm still alive. I drink because of Soledad...her sobs in the middle of the night where I would hug her and tell her "it's all right," the nightmares she has, the times where she wouldn't talk. It adds up. And it's stressful. I'm tired of it. I drink it away, thinking tomorrow will be the day she wakes up and smiles and laughs and hugs me and is_ there_, not grouchy and sad and _distant_. Sometimes it is that day, sometimes it's not. I'm getting tired of living a life of stress, of fear, of grief. But I live it 'cause of Soledad. I love her, and I'm willing to live it for her. To be honest, though, she makes my life a living hell." Harley looked down at the empty bottle of beer he had finished and smiled. He set it down, got up, and walked to the door. I followed his path to the door.

And I could've sworn I saw Soledad's face in the opposite end of the door.

* * *

**-xx-**

* * *

Soledad - Sometime Around Midnight

_"As s[he] walks out the door,_  
_your blood boiling_  
_your stomach in ropes._  
_Oh and when your friends say,_  
_"What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."_

-Sometime Around Midnight, The Airborne Toxic Event

* * *

Living hell? Seriously, Harley?

Through the glass, I saw my so called best friend, someone I could trust, love, rely on, hug, kiss, cry with, laugh with, die with—the best person I had_ ever_ met—put down that bottle of that demon liquid and call me weak, a living hell. The moment he turned around, my heart broke into millions of pieces. He couldn't trust me...he didn't trust me...he _doesn't_ trust me. He doesn't think I'm strong enough to take his pain. He doubts me. The person who I trusted with my life doubted my strength. No, that wasn't the worst thing about it.

I made his life a living hell.

And he stopped in front of the door, his smirk fading into a regretful frown, his eyes flashing a look that meant, "I'm sorry," and his mouth moving quickly. My vision was blurring as tears filled my eyes and I did not hear what he was saying. I turned on my heels, running as fast as I can to the end of the train, the railing stopping me in my tracks. My hands moving farther apart as I placed them on the steel rail. I leaned over and the tears started to escape my eyes. I did not want to cry; Harley _always_ told me that boys weren't worth my tears. But I couldn't stop. Had I been entirely selfish the whole time? Making the only man that cared about me, live through_ hell_? Why didn't he tell me?

"Sol—" A hand brushed my shoulder, and in instinct I jerked away. My hand was led away from the cold, metal railing and to Harley's. I didn't let go. My other hand brushed my bangs and tucked them behind my ear, the tears still flowing down my face.

"Go. Away." I was serious. I didn't want him to see me _weak_, like he'd put it.

"Soledad, honey, please. Let me comfort you. Please—" Harley pulled me towards him, his arms wrapping around me. I pushed him away, not because I didn't want him to do so, but like he said, he's tired of it. Why would I want an insincere hug?

"Why would you want to hug me? Hug a weakling, a person that makes you live through hell? Huh? You said it yourself. I make your life difficult. Stressful. _A living hell_." I gritted my teeth, shoving him to the door. His eyes softened as I spat the last sentence. I laughed mockingly, despite the tears that streaked my face, "Familiar, right?"

"I didn't say that." His face remained stoic. And that made my heart break even more.

"Liar. Like the rest of 'em. I thought—" I pressed my hand over the left side of my chest, crying harder, "I _thought_, yes that's the word. I thought you were the person who I can trust to trust me _back_. _Obviously_ that's not the case." Judging from his eyes, my words had hurt. Good.

"I didn't say that," he repeated, inching towards me.

"Exactly. You never told me you wanted to die. You never told me that your family died. You never, ever told me anything. Who knows. Who _knows_ what you're hiding. I know you're quiet, but you," I pointed at myself, "You _know_ I can handle it. I'm your best friend. Right? Or were you planning to **not **tell me that I'm not anymore? I wouldn't be surprised."

Harley grimaced, stepped forward, and grabbed my arms roughly. I couldn't help but let out a scream. His fingers held my arms tightly, his eyes filled with anger, betrayal, embarrassment...oh? Was that regret in hidden somewhere in those emerald eyes? "You want the truth Sol? Fine. I wanted to die. That night I was planning to? You woke up sobbing, screaming. And I had no choice but to hold you and talk with you. Yes, my life is a living hell because you wake me up at night, because some days you refuse to talk, and eat, and sleep. But you know what? My life is a living hell when yours is. I hold on for you. I live for you. Don't you dare," his grasp on me tightened in his anger, and it hurt, "say that you are a weakling. You are not a weakling. You just weren't strong then. But now? I realize that you are."

"Harley." I croaked out, his grip tightening, my arms burning from pain, "You're hurting me." His grip slacked and his eyes filled with tears to match my own glassy eyes.

"I'm sorry...Sol, I'm sorry I hurt you..."

"Then prove it. Prove your apology," I taunted, rubbing my arms. A tear escaped my eye as I turned around, my back facing him, "I don't believe your words anymore. Show me you're sorry."

And he turned me around, pressed his lips to mine, and kissed me.

"Get off of me," I hissed, "Get the hell off of me." I pushed him away, disgusted. "Harley, I'm not Karina. Don't look surprised that I remember her. I'm not going to let you sway me and shut me up with a kiss. You taught me to not become a girl like that. After my very first kiss with Roland, you said it yourself. I shouldn't be like that. You hate girls like that. I guess you don't listen to your own rules..."

"Sol—"

"From now on, its Soledad, _just_ Soledad. I don't want to talk to you anymore. Because, you know, I make your life a living hell."

"Please, Soledad, hear me out. I promise, I _promise _I won't ever hurt you again," he stared at me, his eyes pleading. His hand grabbed mine, and I did not let go. I held his stare, complete silence between us. I was close to forgiving him...but promise? Promises are worth nothing from him.

"Promise? Just like you promised me you wouldn't drink?" I tried so hard to sound angry, but yet, I couldn't. I sounded like I was broken, scared, sad. Not angry. Not even close.

"I..." His eyes searched mine, emerald meeting sapphire, regret meeting pain. He leaned in, his lips pressing against my temple. And that? That broke my heart even more.

* * *

**-xx-**

**

* * *

**

Harley - Welcome To Mystery

_"This is a place where your mind can escape _  
_All the problems today and go far, far away _  
_This is a time with no history _  
_Welcome to mystery"_

Welcome To Mystery, Plain White T's

* * *

I felt the tears that sped down her face as my forehead pressed against hers. She was trying to stop crying, but I knew she wasn't going to stop. Her grip on my hand tightened as she let out a sob.

"Why can't I hate you?" she cried, holding my hand tighter than ever, "You hurt me today, you don't trust me, and you lied to me. Yet I can't hate you..." To say her words stung would be an understatement. The combination of her tears, her pain, and her words made my heart drop and guilt flooded my mind.

"So where does this put us?" I asked, brushing her tears away with nimble fingers. She closed eyes and stood silent, deep in thought. I had feared the worst. What could she be thinking? Soledad backed away, letting go of my hand, her fingers slipping away from mine. It was a foreign feeling, to have the spaces between my fingers empty. My mind was racing as I had my doubts. I doubted that she was still mad, I doubted the façade she put on, the mask that she wore. Her mouth was pulled into a smile, yet her eyes told all. She was hurting. Because of me. Because of my words. Because of that damn beer.

And I felt nothing but regret. I looked to where I had held her in a firm, anger-induced grasp. A bruise was forming and my heart sank as soon as I saw it. I found my eyes drawn to her, the way she held herself together in a moment of pain, the way her black tee was tied at the end to fit her tiny figure. Her eyes were an endless ocean and to look at them was to swim in them. And despite the silence, her eyes seemed to speak for her. She did not want to talk to me. At all.

"Harley," she cooed, the same way she does when I'm upset, and, not to he nostalgic or anything, the same way she used to do with May and Drew. Arceus, I miss those kids. "Harley, I used to wonder if we were more than friends. But now...I find it hard to even say that we are even friends anymore."

I'm not sure if she knew it, but she was that close to making me cry.

"Soledad, don't say that. That's not the truth," I chided, my voice cracking in anguish.

She let out a mocking laugh, one that made me still with surprise, "_Truth_? You don't know what it means. If you did, you would've told _me_ the things you told Seamus. If you did, you wouldn't have to cover up your **lies**, _you suicidal drunk_!" She screamed, shoving me. Surprised, I immediately pulled close to me, so that I can calm her down. Obviously it didn't work.

"Harley, why don't you hate me? Hate me, damn it, _hate me_!" Soledad's eyes were filled with angry tears. She jabbed me in the chest with her fist, a blow that hurt. Really bad. She repeated this until I grabbed her arms, stopping her momentarily from her hits, forcing her to look at me.

"I can't hate you, because I love you." I gazed at her with a regretful stare, hoping she would stop hitting me, stop crying.

"_Why_? Why would you still love me? I put you through hell, I'm hurting you, I'm insulting you. I'm trying so bad to make you hate me!" Soledad whimpered, leaning into my chest, sobbing. I let go of her arms and embraced her. She let go of her angry facade and cried the tears she withheld from crying.

"Soledad," I whispered into her ear, "Why would you want me to hate you?"

"Because—" she paused, then said, "—Because it'll be easier for me to hate you if you hated me. But yet, yet it seems impossible to hate you."

"Likewise," I commented. She snuggled close to me, sniffling. And I didn't mind that my shirt is soaking wet from her tears. Because, Soledad is okay, and I? I'm even more in love with Soledad.

* * *

**A/n- My mother is wondering why I'm crying in front of the computer...Next few chapters is with May and Drew. I feel this chapter is the one that I wrote the most emotion, especially with Soledad's part. I love this one. It shows how broken Soledad is, and how much she means to Harley. I liked the fight as well. Not to be sadistic lol, but I really liked it. REVIEW!**

*****Quick note: Sinnoh is not siding with anyone. Initially, they were siding with Johto, but Hoenn dropped a warning bomb (warning to NOT get involved) over Solaceon Town, scaring the wits out of Cynthia and the E4. They are much like Kanto. Both regions were drastically ruined in one town (in Kanto's case, a city) and [...REVIEW...] but do not have as much damage as Johto and Hoenn has. HOWEVER, Kanto is fighting alongside Johto. REVIEW. All will be explained in the chapters to come. **

Up next: May. Song? Mad World by Gary Jules/Michael Andrews/Tears For Fears/Adam Lambert (take your pick.)

As if I had not mentioned it...

**REVIEW**


	9. Chapter 8: If I Had You

Something of a Tragedy

* * *

May - If I Had You

_"There's a thin line 'tween the dark side and the light side baby tonight_  
_It's a struggle gotta rumble trying to find it." _

If I Had You, Adam Lambert

* * *

Three days after Jessie had been murdered, Drew and I found ourselves stuck in quite a predicament.

We were stuck in the middle of Slateport City, the war's main battlefield and home to Johto's main barracks, without any sort of escape. We are screwed, so, so, so screwed. What were we thinking, cutting through the most dangerous place in the modern world? And now here we stand, backs against the wall, feet flat against the carpeted floor, hiding in an abandoned beach front house.

"Drew, you're an idiot." I slid down against the wall, groaning. Why now? My Arceus, we'll be late...

"Hey, you followed me," he replied, walking around the house like he lived here, fingering the many picture frames that scattered the house. I followed him? Um, maybe because _he's my partner? _I leaned into the wall, sighing. I placed my arms on my knees, staring right before me. The house was a perfect mess, as if the family just left without packing anything in mass panic. The glass window showed the beach, nothing more than a sad pile of sand along an even sadder ocean. On the sides of the glass window were pictures of children. Pictures of a boy with purple hair and a girl with pink tresses. They were smiling, hugging each other.

Their faces were so familiar... Eerie, ain't it?

"Heads up, Maple." I turned my head to see Drew holding a stuffed Teddiursa, ready to throw it at me. He smirked, then threw it as hard as he could. I failed to catch it. Frowning, I then picked it up from the carpet. I smirked, then hugged it tight.

"Where'd you find it?" I asked, observing the bear. It's fur was dusty, the usually yellow and beige fuzz now coated in grey filth. I shook it off, revealing the true colors. It looked so old, as the fur had faded and stitchings now covered the bear. As I scanned the toy, I saw a bright pink message stitched across the back of the bear. The words sent shivers down my back, only because the names were so damn familiar.

_Harley and Soledad: best friends. Summer 1998._

I dropped the bear in shock, standing up as quick as I can. I stared back to Drew, who grinned when he realized that I had found the message. His emerald eyes glimmered as he gazed back to the bear, flipping his hair as he stuffed his hands into his pocket. He casually sauntered over to me, eyes full of curiosity.

"So apparently this is Harley's old house," he commented as he leaned into the wall, his shoulders pressing against mine. I nodded slowly; oh Harley...I wonder if he's okay. I wonder if they're okay...

"I hope they're okay," I said softly, memories of the two flooding my mind. I miss them. I really, really do.

"Them?" He turned to me, chuckling. He pointed to the glass window, then said, "We're in the middle of Slateport-freaking-City. I hope _we're _okay."

I didn't say anything. He was mad, again. Why can't I say anything without him yelling at me?

"Yeah, I know, me too. But I'm just saying..." I commented, walking away from him. Arceus, he can be so moody. Drew pointed to himself, then hissed, "_I'm _just saying."

Arceus damn it, can he just stop with his inconvenient mood swings? "Drew, calm down. We'll just...wait it out? I want to get to the arena quickly too. But obviously, we can't." And then, he smiled. Not the cute and flirty kind of smile. The one that makes me say "Oh shit."

"Who says we can't? What's stopping us?" Drew said with a daring tone. I crossed my arms. He's such a dumbass.

"Uh, the fucking Johto army?" I exclaimed. He waved it off, scoffing. He bent over and picked up the bear. Holding it by the arms, he jiggled it in front of my face. I smiled and grabbed the toy.

"The Johto army? Screw them. We're from Hoenn, aren't we?" He playfully punched my arm, then pulled me towards the door. Before touching the knob, gunshots rang from the outside. Drew, with a worried face, backed away.

"Maybe tomorrow, 'kay Maple?" Drew smiled nervously, then grabbed the bear I clutched tightly. Without another word, he walked to the stairs, to which he then climbed up to the second floor of the once prestige beach house. Rolling my eyes, I followed him, muttering a quick, "Whatever you say, Rosier," before trekking up the wooden stairs.

* * *

The house was huge. The interior, despite it's current abandoned state, was clearly expensive and classy. Upstairs, there were seven bedrooms, two of which were master bedrooms, the other five being regular ones. Each room had a different color theme; a soft lavender, a beige kind of hue, periwinkle, a cream color, a vibrant red, ebony, and a flattering shade of yellow.

In the lavender room, for example, was, by the looks of it, a maid's room. It had purple splattered across the walls, various cleaning items stashed everywhere, and suitable clothes for both cleaning and beach-going. A frayed picture of a small family was hanging against the wall: a pretty young lady with a blue bob was dressed in a blue cocktail dress to match her hair, and a young, handsome man dressed in a suit, stood next to a couple with extremely purple hair holding hands, both of whom were wearing their Sunday best. The lady wore an elegant red dress, the man a grey and red suit that flattered his grey eyes. The two couples looked extremely happy. Another picture depicted a young Harley and a young Soledad, both of whom looked no older than ten. Harley's hair looked exactly the same last time I saw him; long, with a wavy body to it. His smile remained similar as well. It was as if he was scheming something, or rather, planning a prank on someone. And his eyes—different. Here, it had an innocence that I never seen Harley own. Maybe it was because here, he was younger, immature. Not saying he was any more mature back in his scheming days—hell no. But...still. Soledad, on the other hand, looked completely different. Her hair was cut short and was darker than her everyday pale rose. Her eyes weren't a pale blue either. They were darker, full of young immaturity and hope. Her smile could compete against Harley's for mischief. It was as if both kids were planning something exciting.

Drew and I were in the lavender room, examining each and every detail. This was, after all, Harley's house, the place where that eccentric man grew up. Surely there must be something interesting about the house if Harley came out of it. Drew seemed lost in the room, as his eyes were flickering from one thing to another, the small lamp to the broken vacuum, the messy bed to the equally messy desk. He was smiling too, as if the room's aura had brightened his day. He stood in front of the wall filled with pictures, examining each and every one of them. I could see that he saw Soledad's photo. I was sure of it. He was smiling, after all.

I diverted my attention to the large desk beside me. Upon it were various letters, most of which addressed to Marla Bower-James, who I took for the maid. Next to the mess of letters, however, was an open book. It wasn't just a book however. Judging from the neat scrawls that was embedded into the paper, it was in fact a diary.

The last entry was dated five years ago. Creepy. I couldn't help but read it.

_2-18-2010_  
_Today marks the death of my beloved Earnest James. I won't ever forget him. We have yet to hear from Master Harley and Miss Soledad about their current situation in Oldale, and we hope we do soon. This blasted packing for Lilycove is just stupid. Just freaking stupid. I hope Harley returns for Earnest's funeral. Arceus knows I do. We miss the little kid. I hope he knows he earns a large portion of Earnest's wil. He was, after all, the closest thing to a child the two of us had together._

_The Johto soldiers have taken over the Delacruz's manor and converted it to another barrack. Hoenn has yet to force the bastards out of Slateport and back to Johto. Wallace is scared to cause a huge problem. But you know what? Fuck that! They're causing mayhem in the city, with the massacre and whatnot. Why can't he just shoot the living shit out of them? Are we just going to let them stay here and kill whoever they feel like killing? Wallace keeps saying that monsters are the wrong people to mess with. He says that those Johto people are monsters. You know what? If he's going to let them stay here, he's no better than them. Dare I say? He's a monster as well. His excuse? _

_"My fellow Hoenn citizens: I know you are scared. The Johto army is moving in with our fellow Slateport people. But I talked with Lance. And he says it's just a precaution, just to make sure Devon does not corrupt the world with another disease. I know that we know we can handle the whole Devon situation by ourselves. We are Hoenn people, after all. But yes. I am allowing their stay, in understanding that they are to only repeat violence in the CASE of Devon involvement in the race to find the cure to the virus. This is under agreement that they will not harm US, rather, just the Devon corporation."_

_Is he that much of an idiot? Does he know how ruthless Lance and Karen and the rest of the Elite Four are? They will turn their backs on us the second Devon will even attempt to help with the cure. _

_Hasn't he learned from the massacre?_

The words she had written were obviously written with such anger. It was scary. Did Wallace really allow them to stay? If they were under some sort of agreement, why did they attack so viciously in the course of two years? What had changed them?

What turned Wallace from an accepting leader to a bloodthirsty, insane leader?

"May," Drew called from the corridor. I closed the diary, revealing the plastic cover that had a picture of her and Earnest holding hands. It was sweet. I grabbed the book from the desk, for safe-keeping. Who knows when it'll come in handy.

"Yeah?" I asked, walking out the door leading into the hall. He was standing, hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes glued to the door that led to the yellow room. I walked to him, clutching the book tightly across my chest. Drew looked back to me, smiled, then gazed to the yellow room's door.

"So you're becoming a nosy Nelly," he commented with a snide tone. He chuckled before saying, "What's with the book with the lovey-dovey couple on the cover?"

"It was the maid's. It's interesting..." I chewed on my lip as I followed his stare. The door seemed so entrancing...it was like a magnet. What could be behind it? "So what's with the door?"

Drew shrugged before walking towards the door in a sluggish manner. "I think it's Harley's old room."

"How would you know?" I followed him towards the captivating room, wondering if it was indeed Harley's bedroom.

"I...I don't know. It seems like it would be. You know? Its Harley-ish." He smiled, then turned the doorknob.

He opened the door slowly, and there, lying in the bed, was a man dressed in a black vest with a white shirt underneath, tight jeans covering his thin legs. Tattooed across his arm were words that simply stated: Johto. His raven hair covered his eyes, and I swore I knew him. He was awake, his brown eyes wide in disbelief.

"Holy shit. Babe, we got company. Hey, Maple. Long time, no see." He did not move as he said this. Instead, he smiled.

* * *

**A/n: UPDATE. YES. I had a busy week of school :( damn. Yes, I said the song would be Mad World. But...I changed my mind last minute. Anyway, I had writer's block...so yeah, if this chapter wasn't as great as the other ones -in a Jamie Foxx voice- Blame it on the wr-wr-writers block. :D Review.**


	10. Chapter 9: Young Forever

Something of a Tragedy

* * *

Drew - Young Forever

_"Just a picture perfect day that last a whole lifetime_  
_And it never ends cause all we have to do is hit rewind_  
_So let's just stay in the moment, smoke some weed, drink some wine_  
_Reminisce, talk some shit, forever young is in your mind_  
_Leave a mark they can't erase, neither space nor time"_

Young Forever, Jay-Z feat. Mr. Hudson

* * *

Holy Mew. Ash Ketchum, the boy we assumed dead is alive. Here he is, sitting on a love seat, hands behind his head, staring at May and I in disbelief. Looks like he thought we were dead too. I smirked when he jumped up from his position; he had gotten taller. Ash's build did not change. Though he grew tall, his frame stayed the same. He was an awkward looking guy; his fringe covering half of his left eye, his tall and lanky build, and his out-of-place, tenor-like voice added to this fact. I could see May's surprise from the corner of my eye, her eyes wide with relief, her grin exploiting her happiness well. She ran up to the teen in shock, wrapping her arms around his thin frame. Obviously taken back from the sudden embrace, he returned the gesture. Smiling, I walked forward and stuck out my hand for him to shake. Releasing him from her tight hold, May stepped back, still smiling wider than ever.

"Aw, dude, why are you so civil? C'mon, Drew-boy, give me a hug!" Ash laughed at his statement, opening his arms out wide. Rolling my eyes, I went to hug the man I haven't seen in six years. Ash sure hasn't changed personality-wise.

After the hug, he slapped my back. Hard. Damn, that hurt. Is it just me, or has Ash finally elevated to an even higher state of immaturity? I looked to May, who looked to me in a way that I could only deem happy. She was excited to finally see someone other than bandits and passerby's. I've seen her this happy before. And if she was happy, I was happy. One less thing to worry about on our journey to find Max.

And it wasn't just Ash who was here in Harley's old house. No, there was Misty and Pikachu as well. The red-head, who's hair was extremely long now, was carrying a sleeping Pikachu, who, from the looks of it, gained a few pounds. Misty smiled at the sight of the us, her blue eyes sparkling with surprise. She set down the fluffy rodent and said, teasingly, "May, Drew, what are you two fools doing in Hoenn? Don't you know there's a war going on?"

I laughed at her humorous attempt at sarcasm. Misty was really happy, and not sarcastic and grumpy like the last time I saw her, so sarcasm was... awkward coming from her.. That's good. At least one of us was happy.

"Yes, but the two of us," I pulled May closer to me, making her blush, "just love adventure. Isn't that right, May?" She laughed, then pushed me away, smiling. She shook her head, then said in rebuttal, "Uh, Drew, I'm pretty sure that's just you. We're not sticking around Hoenn 'cause of adventure."

Ash immediately jumped into the conversation, something that was unexpected from the quiet man. His eyes glimmering in curiosity, he asked, "Then why are you in Hoenn?" I tensed. Should I tell him? Or...should May? Or...

"To find Max."

I looked to May in disbelief. She was still smiling, and her voice did not quiver like it usually did when Max was mentioned. Her eyes did not change, and she was not sad like she usually was. She was acting strange.

"Max?" Misty exclaimed. She walked up to May and shook her by the shoulders, desperate for details. Chicks. Only them would take a tragic fact into gossip. May looked at her as if Misty was crazy (a fact I am not denying; Misty is crazy, with her mallet and whatnot.) and laughed, mumbling between fits of giggles, "Misty, chill. I'll tell you guys right now about Max, if you want." Misty nodded quickly, beaming.

Without a word, Misty pulled May into the hallway, going on about Max and how she was worried and how she wished that we'd find him quickly...you know, normal girl talk. Arceus, Misty could ramble on and on. I miss her talkative antics.

Ash called out to the hallway in a teasing voice, "M'kay, Mist, you can tell me all about it later..." He rolled his eyes, then pointed to the love seat, as if asking if I wanted a seat. I did, and stretched. My back has never felt better.

"So Rosier, tell me, what's up with May. She's quiet. Well, quieter," he asked, taking a seat next to Pikachu, who rolled over in his sleepy daze. The pokemon stared directly at me, blinked, then smiled a sleepy smile. Chanting it's name, it slowly fell into a deep slumber, leaning onto Ash's leg. He chuckled, then added, "Pikachu's not as active anymore. Team Rocket blasted off and never came back...shame, I was starting to like them."

My eyes tore away from Pikachu and met Ash's wondering brown orbs. I arched an eyebrow, then thought about Jessie. It was Team Johto now, isn't it? "May and I found Jessie on the way to Rustboro. She said something about Giovanni, and how Team Rocket is now Team Johto. Strange, isn't it? And then bam! Jessie is shot seconds after telling us."

Ash's eyes widened at this, then leaned over and laughed. "Oh shit, really? Team Johto is an organization devoted to Kanto and Johto's wellbeing. It's not a crime thing, at least, it wasn't." He lifted his arm to reveal the tattoo of Johto's name, the curve of the J familiar now that I analyze it's shape and color. "Is the J like the one on my arm?"

"Yes," I breathed, not believing what I saw; the J on his arm was identical to the J marked on Jessie's shirt and the J now embedded into her back, "The J is the same. What does this mean?"

"It means Team Johto is not all that it is cracked up to be and I am technically entitled to Giovanni's rule," he said calmly, his eyes mocking the thought of obeying Team Ro—um, Johto. He was Ash-freaking-Ketchum after all. He's the sworn enemy of Giovanni.

"Why are you so calm about being part of the biggest crime organization in the world? I would be freaking out right now," I mentioned quietly, watching Ash's mouth quiver in laughter. Yep. He's still a freak.

"Because, young grasshopper," he jeered, "You're...you. And I'm me."

"No shit." Way to state the obvious, Ash-y boy.

"What I mean is, I've faced hardships—so many, in fact—that can't even match this one. Just because I'm entitled to it doesn't mean I have to follow it. Hey, apparently my mom had a summer fling with Giovanni, and ba-da-boom! They had sex and I was conceived and ba-da-bing! I was born. See how that works out?"

"Yeah, way to go Mrs. Ketchum. Bring life to the world's biggest idiot." I smiled. He threw a pillow at my head, obviously annoyed.

"I mean, technically I'm the heir to Team Johto's franchise! And I didn't do shit about it! You didn't see me freaking out and rushing to Kanto when my mother told me this!"

"Well, considering Giovanni's still alive and you're still eighteen, it's obvious you're not needed in Team Rocket—erm, Johto." Can't the pokemon champion figure this out?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's put it this way," I droned in a slow voice, "Once Giovanni goes bye-bye, Team Johto officials will hunt you down and crown you Mafia Boss. No way in avoiding that."

"Oh. But what if I don't want to be the boss?" he asked in a way that reminded me of when he was ten, voice laced with question and eyes full of curiosity. He obviously never grew up. Really, the only thing that matured was his voice.

"Really Ash?" I laughed at his confused expression, like he didn't hear the overly emphasized sarcasm, "Okay, look at it this way. You'll get used to the evilness. Like how Pikachu warmed up to your childish antics, you'll warm up to your new job."

"Shut up dude! I'm serious!"

"How old are you again Ash?" I rolled my eyes as he mentally counted in his head. Dear Arceus, please let him be joking...

"Eighteen."

M'kay, so he's eighteen right? And he has a loyal team of a Pikachu, Garchomp, Donphan, Charizard, Tauros, and Lapras. How does his pokemon obey him, with his immaturity and downright smart/dumbass-ness? If that's even a word? But that's why he's my friend, right? Arceus I miss these days, back in 2009, when we would hang out and talk...

"Ha, ha. Sorry Ash, just making sure dude. So yeah..."

"...So, pretty-boy. Tell me about Max."

Max? He's probably dead, Ash. No, he is dead. What ten-year old survives the harsh ways of the world? "He's been in better situations, that's for sure. He's probably dead, anyway."

"Way to be optimistic," he chuckled.

"Well I'm being realistic. Look, he was ten. He was blinded by some crazy idea that May was dead and set off on a delusional race to achieve vengeance. He had one freaking pokemon. It was him and his Ralts and the world. What ten year old would survive in that situation?"

"I did," he stated, his eyebrows arching.

Sighing, I added, "Look Ash, you're different."

"How so?"

My Arceus! Ash, think it through! "Don't be a dumbass, Ash."

"Don't be a smartass, Drew."

Again with the snappy comments. "Okay, back then the world wasn't crappy and dangerous! Max was pitted against people with strong-ass pokemon and huge guns! When you were ten, you were up against Pidgeys and Ratatas and weak pokemon! Not freaking Dragonites on steroids holding massive machine guns."

"Don't get pissy!" Ash screeched, cowering into Pikachu, who scooted away slightly.

"Well sorry," I waved off the topic. I didn't want this conversation to escalate into something violent. I didn't want to hurt the kid, not after I just met up with him after six years. Ash relaxed back into his regular position, his mouth formed into a straight line, his lips flat. He stared to the room where May and Misty ran off to—the red room, by the looks of it.

"So..." he trailed off, half-smiling. His eyes glinted, mocking me in a way I did not understand. He was trying to say something...but what? I frowned, unable to decipher his mysterious gaze. He leaned forward, his eyebrows arching, his lips tugged into a menacing smile.

"What?" I asked, confounded by his weird actions. He groaned, then said, "So why are you still with May?"

"What do you mean?" I honestly think this kid is strange, therefore proving my observation even more: that Ash has not grown up yet. And I don't think he ever will. But hey, things happen. "If you're all, Max is totally dead, why are you willing to help May?" he asked as if May and Misty weren't in the other room.

"She's a friend, and a close one at that. Why would you question that?" my voice became a little over a growl, even though I wasn't mad. Ash didn't see the inner content I held in me, and instead cringed at my almost "growl" if you wish to call it that. Sure, I knew I sounded mad, but Ash, dude, you've been in intense pokemon battles and deadly fist-fights, not to mention the hell you went through to end up here. And you're scared of a mere growl, My Arceus.

"Hey, don't get mad," he whispered, hiding behind his shirt, "I just want to say, if I truly believe Misty's sister was dead, and she asked me to search for her sister—who, in my hypothetical belief—was six feet under, I would politely decline. So what if she's my best friend? Hell, she's my girlfriend! I would not waste my time trying to find someone who's impossible to find."

"Well you're a douche." I smiled at this, a fit of laughter threatening to escape my sealed lips. He scowled, flipped me off, then said, "No, I'm being realistic. So I'm a non-romantic, douche-y guy, who wouldn't go on a journey to search for the impossible with one of the only people he loves? That's just me. I've been through a load of shit in my life and learned that love is not pretty rainbows and unicorns. It sucks, leads you to shit and hell and whatnot, and started this whole damn war. Love is what makes the world go 'round, but it also makes the world upside down. I'm not in it for the theoretical love, I'm in it for the following things," here, he held up his fingers as he counted off, "one: the sex. Two: the benefits you get. It builds fundamentals and morals. Misty got me started into some soul-searching that I find interesting. Three: Sex. Four: Misty is my equal, she's brave and funny and damn beautiful. Five: Sex. See? Get it now?"

"Get what? That you are a horny teen?" I smirked at my snarky comment. Ash slapped me. I frowned, "Kidding! Anyways...wait, wait one second. How did we get from May, you know, the tall, brunette in that room," I pointed to the room right across from ours, then continued, "to L. O. V. E. _Love_? May..._love_...May..._love_...I see no relation!"

Ash face-palmed, then said with his hand still attached to his forehead, "Drew. You cannot tell me that you're following May around out of courtesy. That is impossible."

"Well I'm doing the impossible, I believe."

"You don't love her? Not a little bit? You're not doing this because you care about her safety?"

"Well I certainly care about—" I started, but Ash suddenly jumped up and screamed, "Aha! That's love. L-O-V-E, LOVE! I knew it! Go Ash, it's your hypothetical birthday, uh huh—"

"Dude, I love her—" Arceus. Damn. It. Damn it all.

"AHA! Is that a confession I hear?" To make him shut the hell up, I slapped him. Pikachu, who was disturbed by our little outburst, stood (um, I don't think "stood"is the correct word. Rather, the fat ball of fluff wobbled.) and shocked the two of us. Needless to say, we left the pokemon in peace, quietly bickering.

"I meant to say I love her like a friend. A sister. A—"

"—Girlfriend?" he added eagerly. His not-so-subtle hints of a possible relationship between May and I were just hilarious. Me? May? I mean she's pretty, brave, smart, sure she's a bitch too but she's also caring...anyway, she's too close of a friend for me to be attracted to. I mean yes, she's absolutely gorgeous! Yes, she's a perfect match for me. But—wait, what was my point again?

"No. Dude, lay up on the enthusiasm. It's creepy," I remarked. Ash didn't reply, however he stared at me with an empty gaze and a mischievous smile.

"So Drew, you said you believe that Max is dead and this search of yours is technically a waste of time. What if I ask you this: can you stay with Misty and I? I need some dude time, you need some dude time. May's a big girl now. She doesn't need you for protection. Unless...unless of course you love May. Love, albeit it's secret evils and negativity it generates, is also a legitimate excuse for staying with someone for no absolute logical reason."

Who dropped this kid on planet pessimism and fed him crazy ideas that love is a no-no?

"Of course I love May...as a friend."

"A friend? A friend is someone like...Pikachu. He sticks around with me because we enjoy each other's company—"

"Uh, huh. You sure Pikachu agrees to that?" I snickered.

"—and though we will miss each other dearly if one of us dies, we can and will move on. From my understanding and knowledge—"

"Which is very, very limited."

"—Love, as in the romantic kind, is defined as an overpowering emotion that makes you care about the person you "love" immensely. Without your knowledge, you slowly succumb to a dependency on the said person. They become part of you. And if part of you is gone, dead, bye-bye, kaboom...how do you suppose you'll move on?"

"...What are you...trying to say..." I'm just...at a loss for words. Ash is now the love guru.

"You know exactly what I'm trying to say."

"Nope. Pretend I'm stupid."

"Oh, Drew. You make me laugh. I don't need to pretend to you're stupid."

"...Shut up. Just tell me."

"I...I think you're in love with May."

He smiled. I did not reply. Instead, my mind blanked out, my vision turned fuzzy, and my eye twitched.

Ash was touching a subject that I promised myself that I would never visit.

But now...now that I'm older...

Love is such a shiny thing. I want to hold it, touch it, feel it... It's a lantern, and I'm the Kricketune. I know its bad...its dangerous. But its so...so shiny.

**A/n: no excuses. writer's block. can't even write essays... :/ next update might take a while. bear with me loves.**


	11. Chapter 10: Home

Something of a Tragedy

* * *

Soledad - Home

* * *

My life has never been easy, I tell you that. But it's never been this hard, and I never thought it will be. Now...now I see the true worth in the world before me. Everyone was a glittering being, full of life and promise. This war had changed everything I see in life. There was no one I could trust, not Harley, not Seamus, not anyone. Trusting was risking. And in this world, risking was terribly bad.

My grandmother once told me that to risk was to live. She told me that risking everything gave you everything. And I believed her for awhile. That is, up until today. My grandmother had took the term risk too far. She risked everything, but she lost everything in the process.

The day my grandmother died was the day I ran the fastest I've ever ran ever before in my life. I did not want to see the face of my father, the face of my brothers, the face of my sisters. I refused to believe that she was dead, that she could die and leave me in this world alone. Even worse, leave my family suffering.

You see, my father had been an inventor for a company that sold medicine for pokemon. My father screwed up an order, killed the manager of Silph Co.'s baby Dratini. Helluva mess he got into. Lost his job because of it. My mother worked part-time at the local hospital, working as the secretary. Setsu, who was twenty-three at the time my grandmother died and my father lost his job, took up a job as a maid at the local motel by the gym.

Before Sammy was born, I was the baby of my huge family. My older brothers Sakeri, who was three years my senior and Sebastian (who was five years older than me) loved me to death. And then there was my sister Setsu, thirteen years older than me. The twins, Stephanie and Sterling, were two years older than me. Each of us were different in our own way. Setsu was the wiser, older sister. She was intelligent and witty, beautiful and elegant. Though she was very rude to my brothers, she was so nice to me and Stephanie. Then there was Sakeri and Sebastian. Both of them were buff and strong; however, they were both different. Sakeri, was...well, albeit strong, was soft and sweet. He was so protective of me. Even though he's a tough boxer, he's really nice. Sebastian, however, was nice, but only to me. And Sakeri. But he doesn't count. Whenever the twins said something rude to me, he would get so mad. He would threaten to lock them in the laundry room until midnight. Which he did on multiple occasions. He makes me wonder what he did to kids at his school when they irritate him...

Then there were the twins. Both of them were so distant from our family, like it was just them and them only. They were eerily similar. Both of them finished each other's sentences, both had the same dark red hair, both had the same likeness for Dark-type pokemon. They were creepy. But I loved them. I guess I had to though, as I shared a room with them. And my other siblings as well.

That's how poor our family was after the downfall of my father's wealth; we had went from a six bedroom, three story house, including a large pool and guest house, not to mention our exquisite living room, to a two bedroom house with a small living room and kitchen. I was too young to remember our old house, but I had sensed a difference in the family, a shift of mood. My father, then a wealthy, highly respected inventor and medical prodigy, now a mere security guard for the local gym. My mother, once a social butterfly, now a secretary. Our family name had changed. The Rush's? We weren't the family that everyone had once loved and respected. We were trash to them.

As a child, I grew fond of our lack of wealth. Our family was closer; Setsu did not have rigorous dance classes and recitals everyday, Sebastian did not have to accompany my father to boring and dull parties, Sakeri did not have to meet with Master Shinji every other day to train his already strong team of pokemon, the twins did not have to attend karate classes and gymnastics, and I did not have to take rapidash-riding classes and piano lessons anymore. We did have enough money for that. Instead, we all hung out in our cramped room. Imagine: a tiny room full of teens and tweens, all talking and laughing. I had felt safe.

* * *

Later that year, our lives changed again.

In Pewter, there was an old park smack-dab in the middle of the city. Technically, it wasn't a park; rather, it was a garden. But years passed and the owners of the garden converted it into a park. It wasn't much. A patch of grass misplaced in a big city was really what it was. Nevertheless, on November 8th, 2000, the twins and I decided to go to the park. As usual, Sterling and Stephanie left ten-year old me to play by myself. I knew this was going to happen. What I didn't know, was that my riding partner, Darius, was there. Darius was the other person in my age group back when I took rapidash-riding lessons. Naturally, I fled to him when I saw him. He was pleased when he saw me, and we chatted, and we laughed.

That's when shots rang out, the unforgiving echoes of bullets rushing through the air. I remember the screams that erupted from the park. People rushed out from the park, children crying, and it was complete panic. Darius dragged me out of the swing set and into the bushes.

The twins were searching for me. Sterling was calling out my name, and I failed to move. Stephanie was crying, calling out my name.

A man wielding a gun was behind her. I wanted so damn bad to shout Stephanie's name and tell her that a madman was right behind her.

"You're such a beautiful girl," the man had said. With a single press of the trigger, Stephanie was gone.

* * *

Our family gathered in the park that night.

I sat in between Sakeri and Sebastian. My parents were crying, and so was Setsu. I was shocked and confused...six girls shot dead that night. Six out of the seventy-two girls at that park. Six. And one of them just had to be Stephanie. Sterling was sitting on the stump near Stephanie. Her eyes were shut, her body perfectly still.

I overhead an officer ask my parents to identify her.

"Ma'm you have to identify the body," the officer reasoned. He repeated it over and over calling her "it" or "the body."

By the time the officer had called Stephanie "the body" for the seventh time, Sterling had screamed at the top of his lungs, angry tears streaming down his face, "She's not an it! She's my sister! She is not just a dead body! She's my fucking sister! Her name is Stephanie Rosalie Rush and she's my fucking twin sister! She was born December-freaking-19th-freaking-1988 and her favorite color is red. She has a Honchkrow named Nyx and an Abra she named Lia!"

The police officers asked my parents to confirm this. I swore if Sterling lacked self-control, he could've ripped the head off that guy.

* * *

The summer of 2001 came quickly after Stephanie's death.

We headed off to Hoenn in a mess. Sterling didn't talk to anyone once in that seventh month period. Seven months of silence and sadness. Setsu moved out in Janurary, Sakeri heading off on his long-awaited pokemon journey. Sebastian and my father intended to spend the summer looking for jobs and possible places to live in Slateport.

I was the only one that was not busy and completely, emotionally competent for the whole summer.

Harley, as usual, was elated to see me.

I, unusually, was not.

* * *

Sterling and I were forced to share a room.

That night, as Sterling sat, knees curled up to his chest, I did not sleep. I stared at the ceiling in wonder, counting the mareep that did not disappear from my mind. One, two, three...

"You're not supposed to be here," he said quietly, speaking the first words he had ever spoken for the last seven months. I did not answer. I was terrified. I don't know why, but I was. "I know you're awake. But stay quiet."

Silence.

"I know mom and father made you sleep with me. These walls are rather thin."

Silence.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never told you that its not your fault Stephanie is dead. I know the last few months were complete hell for you."

He laughed, then, he said, "Soledad, can I tell you something?"

The silence answered for me.

"I can sense things no-one else can. I can sense negativity and positivity, lies and truth. No-one 'cept Stephanie knew. Consider yourself special," he sighed, then said, "Soledad, I want to say that I hate you. But I can't. You're my sister. I love you. Like how I love Sakeri, Sebastian, and Setsu. Like how I loved Stephanie. Good night Soledad."

* * *

On June 17th, 2001, I sat on the beach.

It was three days after my eleventh birthday. I was far from the house, and I didn't want to talk to anyone. I was in one of those, deep-in-thought moods.

I let my feet dig into the sand, letting the waves crash against my skin. I wanted to just run, run as fast as I can. To the market, to the bike route, to anywhere but where my family was. I hated them. So much. Why did they have to do this? Why did they have to force me to come? I hated Harley. I hated him. I hated that slut Karina.

The more I thought of that scene, it replayed in my mind. _Sitting under a palm tree, the three of us sat; me, Harley, and Karina. We were laughing, smiling. I went to get water for the three of us. I came back. Harley was sucking the face off that Karina. All I remember was dropping the water, my laughter turning into tears, running as fast as I could to that cove by the same spot Harley became friends._

I sat there, in the same spot, for four hours.

I was not crying. I was counting the dolphins splashing in the endless sea. Fifteen.

And I remember how I did not say anything when Earnest took a seat next to me.

I didn't mind the fact that Earnest was sitting next to me. I didn't mind the awkward silence. I simply sat there; knees curled up to my chest, hands locked together, eyes set straight ahead on the endless sea and the sun that bled into the ocean. Earnest, dressed in a suit and tie, sat on the sand next to me.

"You're family's looking for you, Miss Soledad." He had said this with a solid tone, as if it was unimportant that I was deemed missing to the Rush's. I did not reply. Instead I had glared at him. How dare he address me as if I owned him? Had that man consider me a person he was entitled to serve and bow down to? Had he have any self-respect or dignity?

"Don't call me miss. I don't own you! You're older than me!" I had stood, my tiny figure looming over Earnest, "Come on, Earnest! I'm not even your employer!"

"Miss Soledad, I do believe you are hiding from your fears," Earnest did not look at me. He just stared blankly at the oceanic scene, ignoring my eyes. I stood puzzled. "You are hiding from your family, from Master Harley."

"What do you know? You're just the butler! You don't know me! You don't know anything!" I snapped, stomping my foot on the sand.

"Miss Soledad, do not say things you don't know," he whispered quietly, "I've known your family for a decade and a half. I know you as well as your father knows you. Maybe a little more."

"Don't belittle my father! I hate you, you poor filth! You don't know anything!" I had screamed, turning on my heels and dashing into the cove. I ceased running and fell to my knees, the rocky surface digging into my skin. The sand stung my newly formed scratches From the corner of my eye, I saw the butler stand up. He dusted off the sand from his suit, gazed sadly at the cove, then walked off. His footprints marked his path along the beach, and for awhile, I stared at them guiltily. I had realized that I had insulted the man I considered a father.

It wasn't until the footprints washed away that I summoned enough strength to walk back to the house I called hell.

* * *

For seven days I was sentenced to stay in my room. Sterling was moved to Harley's room for that week.

Seven days I stayed there in solitude. Seven days of pure bliss.

The room, I had came to realize in my seven day stay banishment, was much more than I had first expected it to be. The yellow paint was not only yellow; it was, in fact, an amazing swirl of white and bisque, mixed in with a hardly noticeable ray of orange. It was a nice touch.

Next, there was the love seat. It was squishy and soft, and I had not sat in it prior to my imprisonment, for I was too busy with my thoughts I had thought up in my bed to sit in the lavender seat. Then, there were the two, very hidden secrets. One of them was the trapdoor mystery that haunted my family for years.

According to Marla (who was my only visitor), the beach house was built accordingly to Mr. Willis's plans. He planned every single room, window, door, wall...you name it. And, he made sure every room had something easily accessible, yet hardly visible. As in, a door leading to the outside world. Intended for emergency purposes, it was never supposed to be used. However, my brothers were bent on finding every single trapdoor. And they did. Except for the yellow room's trapdoor.

Which, incidentally, was the one I found.

It was hidden quite cleverly. I never thought about the door, as my thoughts were focused on many things, Harley as the main topic. I was staring blankly at the wall in front of me, tapping my feet against the wooden floor in a rhythm I had come up with in my boredom. As I tapped my feet accordingly, I noticed that the center-right plank sounded off. Like, it was hollow. And it was. So I spent hours on end trying to tear that wooden plank out of the floor. Soon, I managed to rip it off, revealing the dark abyss of the trapdoor. A little frightened, and a little excited, I closed the plank, unbeknownst to my young mind that in the years to come, it would be not only an escape to the beach life of Slateport City, but a total escape from reality.

The other secret I discovered was really on accident. Adjacent to the bed was a bookcase. A natural reader by heart, I longed to read every single book. Of the books were a variety of children's, young adult's, adult's, and non-fiction. The three books that caught my interest, however, were the Book of Arceus, the Bible, and the Torah. Honestly, I didn't even know the Willis's were religious, with Mr. Willis's high-demanding job as the CEO of Harper-Willis International (didn't the last name tip you off that Harley came from a long line of breeding masterminds? HWI is, of course, the company for breeding needs and wants.) and Mrs. Willis's busy life as a social butterfly. Not to mention the prestigious co-ed private academy Harley attends during the year. So, whatever, the Willis's are as pious as the next family. Big deal.

I cracked open the Torah, flipping through pages of Hebrew, not understanding a word it said. After all, I only knew English and Japanese, the same as every other kid in Japan. It was strange, how no one in the house knew how to speak and read Hebrew, let alone be Jewish. As I reached the middle of the book, a paper dropped out of the pages. Curious, I had picked it up and read it. And the message inscribed on it had made my hairs stand up and my blood boil.

The message had simply told one and one thing only.

_I love you, Jenna Rush. -Daniel Willis_

My mother, once a weak and broken being, burdened with the death of a daughter, financial trouble, and a long line of shame following her, now entangled a love affair with one of the most powerful and wealthiest men on Earth. I kept this fact to myself—I intend to for the rest of my life. But every time I saw my father and mother together, my heart sank.

Of course, I don't need to worry about it now. My parents are dead. But that just makes it worse.

* * *

The train roared through the tracks as the morning sun rose into the sky. I spent my morning alone; Harley had went to sleep soon after the incident. We were headed to Sunnyshore, that much I knew. I'm hoping Seamus tags along; a nice guy is what we need.

I sat on the platform of the caboose, waiting for Harley to wake up. But at the same time I didn't want him to wake up; I was scared. I wanted things to be the same between us. I knew that's not going to happen though.

We spent a week on this train. Worst week ever, in my opinion.

"So, uh, some night, huh?"

I looked behind. Smiling in a cocky way, his head turned to the side, revealing his deep blue eyes and blond hair. Seamus St. Riley. Oh, how little I knew about him, yet so much I could relate. He walked over, took a seat, and hummed. Hummed a tune I knew so well.

Without thinking, I sang softly, "_Come take me home tonight, come take me home...Oh I need you now, I'm lost without you..._" I looked at Seamus, who only smirked.

"So, Soledad. How's life? Good, bad, crappy..?"

I laughed.

He laughed.

"Good," I said, "Just fantastic."

And I meant it.

* * *

**Guess the song? Haha chapters-updated every two weeks folks! **

**Seamus chapter next, then Drew, then...SAMMY! Sammy's will be explaining the Rush's family life more thoroughly though...reviews(:**


	12. Chapter 11: Beautiful

Something of a Tragedy

* * *

Seamus - Beautiful

* * *

Arceus, last night was quite intense.

I honestly didn't know what to expect. Harley—he's a great guy and all, don't get me wrong, but...as I saw from a distance, cigarette in my mouth, legs crossed, eyes fixated on Soledad's crying, shaking figure...I saw anger, I heard anger. He was sorry, no doubt about it. But it's like he was bitter. Bitter about life and all that crap. I don't blame him. Life sucks. A lot.

* * *

_Sarah was wrong._

_She had told me that Solaceon was just an empty hick town, nothing but rouge trainers and grass full of worthless pokemon. Just dust, wooden buildings, and a huge train-track that ran parallel to the straight path that made Solaceon famous. That's the thing with Sarah—she sees with her eyes. When I say that, I mean she sees things literally. Apple, red. Sky, blue. Blanket, soft. She doesn't overanalyze things like I do. That's what separates me and her. Our mindsets are different. I see this small town as a basis for cities like Jubilife. The dust was a symbol of hard work, the old buildings a symbol of strength—for fifty years they stood on the same wooden planks, the same ones eaten away by age and termites. And what made Solaceon a town perfect for a summer getaway were the routes that led out and into the town._

_During my stay, I found the routes to be a picturesque place of solitude. Barely anyone passed through there. What's there to see? To anyone with an ignorant view of nature, it was nothing but somewhere for bidoof to graze and starlies to fly. To me, it was beautiful. The grass—deprived of any sort of cutting, the green blades grew up to my knee. The blue skies—clear with lack of clouds due to the arid nature of the town. The tower—a haunted building that attracted tourists to the town. It was all beautiful._

_So that's where I took Rebecca on our "first" date. In reality, it was probably the twentieth time we hung out. But it wasn't after I developed feelings for her that I had the guts to ask her on a date. She gladly accepted._

_By the waterfront was a small dock. Sitting crisscross we talked. I remember exactly what she wore—very short-shorts with a blue tee, a black vest covering most of her shirt's design. She wore a grey beret and her brown, straightened bangs covered her eyes—oh how beautiful were those green irises. We laughed, talked, fished for pokemon that we just threw back into the water. And then, she grabbed the notebook that held all my drawings I drew during my summer stay. Instinctively, I lunged for it, knocking her down in the process. I had instantly felt bad that I had hurt her, but despite this I held the book close to my chest. No way in hell anyone is going to see my drawings. But instead of crying out in pain, Rebecca had laughed. Yes, you read that right. She laughed. She was bleeding, yet she laughed. _

_"Somehow, I knew you were going to do that," she commented as she lay on the ground, cracking up. Still clutching the notebook, I stared at her. Soon, I found myself laughing along to rhythm of her laughter. Why I laughed, I do not know._

_"What's that supposed to mean?" I had asked, my voice trying to imitate some sort of intimidation. Her shrill laughter rang through my ears as she once more giggled for no apparent reason._

_"I mean that you're so, oh, I don't know..." Rebecca looked around, as if someone was around besides us, then dropped her voice to a low whisper, "protective. Mhm, that's the word. Protective."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes really. I mean, you never let anyone touch your notebook. Not me, not Sarah, not your grandfather. No one."_

_"Is there a problem with that?"_

_"No, I mean, I'm just curious. But I suppose everyone in curious about everything. No, not curious. Nosy. Yes, that's the word. Nosy," Rebecca looked at me, then said, "Nosy-posy."_

_"What?"_

_"You're nosy."_

_"No! How I am nosy?" I asked, dropping the notebook in surprise._

_"You just are. 'Cause if you weren't nosy, you wouldn't have asked me out, now, would ya? You were nosy enough to stick your nosy-nose into my own nosy business, making me stop my nosy life and change directions. You know, realize that nosy-ness is all relevant. If we weren't nosy, we'd all die. Nosy, nosy, nosy. You, Seamus darling, are nosy. I suppose that's a good thing," she paused, then said, "Is it just me or does it seem as if the word 'nosy' isn't a word anymore."_

_"Nah, its just you."_

_With that, she pounced on my, pushing us both into the small lake._

_Best nosy-freaking-day of my nosy summer._

* * *

It was morning. Early morning. The two of us shared stories of the past - stupid shit we did and all that jazz. I had just finished telling a story I held dear to me - my most favorite day of my life, when Rebecca and I had spent a day at the lake. Then, we stopped talking.

Soledad stared ahead blankly, no expression, no life. She was breathing - meaning, she was living - but her eyes were lifeless. Its as if someone sucked the life out of her. It didn't seem right, the way her usual bright eyes were so, well, glum.

"You okay, Soledad?" I asked. She did not look at me. She looked at the horizon, the blue and yellow skies meeting each other, their hues bleeding into the other.

"I'm fine. I'm just tired." No expression. Her tone was even.

"I would expect so, you barely got any sleep..."

"I know. I can't sleep. I'm too tired to sleep."

She stared at me again, then yawned. She laughed after this, as if her yawn was hilarious to her, then stopped after awhile. I smiled, turning my head to the side, seeing the landscape change gradually - buildings grew into trees, trees into desert.

I leaned back into the railing, eyes transfixed on to Harley's sleeping figure forty feet from us. I glanced at Soledad, catching her stare at him as well. I had so many questions.

"Why were you and Harley fighting last night?" I asked, not meaning to seem so rude. I wished I never said anything.

"It's complicated." Her voice seemed to falter, but I couldn't tell if she was tired or sad.

"Mhm, well, life is complicated." I stared at her for awhile. I had this feeling. I felt as if I was looking at Rebecca.

"Amen to that."

"I suppose you don't want to talk right now."

"Nah, just give me a minute. I'm going to explain my complicated relationship with Harley to you. But let me ask you something. After this train stops, what're you going to do?"

I hesitated. I gulped. Then, I said, "Soledad, darling. The main reason why I'm here on this train is to find Rebecca Alana Shay. I want to search the whole world for her. But I suppose life isn't worth it if I'm going to spend the remainder of it looking for someone who is probably dead. So, yeah, I love Rebecca so fuckin' much. But hey, I think I'm going to live life the way I had before - smoking, breathing, laughing, singing. And for the first time in my life since that summer, I had accomplished those four things being with you. And Harley."

I took a breath.

"So Soledad, I'm going to stay with you guys until who the hell knows."

She smiled. Just like Rebecca did.

A/n- filler chapter. storms in SoCal. had a hard time uploading. sorry readers :( expect next chapter in two weeks, i love reveiws3


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